


Like The Dawn

by Shawnnwolf



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Based on character/online personas ONLY, Blood and Violence, Dadza, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Denial of Feelings, DreamSMP - Freeform, Eventual Dreamnotfound, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Kings & Queens, M/M, Mentioned Skephalo, Minecraft, Philza is King, Possible Character Death, Royalty, Sexual Tension, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Slow Burn, Techno With Pink Hair, dream team, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28004631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shawnnwolf/pseuds/Shawnnwolf
Summary: "They believed him a monster, but he was the brightest shade of sun she had ever seen."--The Kingdom of Viris: known for its loving King and his hodgepodge sons. Violet Smith: the girl who was always known as the fourth child that ran the halls to terrorize the Lords and Ladies of the kingdom.But now, of-age and beautiful, Violet's lord father has claimed her eligible enough to marry the old king of a nearby Kingdom. Despite the clear disapproval of King Phil and his sons, nothing can be done without offending this foreign king. The three princes can only watch in hopeless despair as King Alma comes to visit Viris and make plans to take his future bride away from her rightful kingdom.Luckily, assassinating a king is right up an anarchist's alley.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade/Original Female Character(s), Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 94
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a fanfic between my OC and the online persona Technoblade. This fic involves characters that are based on online personas, not real people! I use their real-life names for authenticity, but if that bothers anyone I can edit accordingly. Everything is completely fictional but if any of the cc's that are mentioned in this fic express their discomfort with fics like this, I will take this story down. Nothing inherently sexual will happen within this story-- maybe --but like I said, I will take this down as soon as it is needed. 
> 
> This is a slow-burn... You've been warned.
> 
> This fanfic is also inspired by the song "Like the Dawn" by The Oh Hellos. Since this song is quite literally about God, I thought it was ironic to make the atheist Blood God himself as the subject of this song-based fic. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun was too bright as it shined harshly on its audience. The constant wind that swept through the golden field was the redeeming feature of the scene that played out before Lady Violet. The day felt like a dream, especially as everything seemed too perfect; too pretty. 

A head in her lap, Violet begrudgingly placed her sun hat on the face of the squinting prince that tried to use his hand as blockage from the sun. A small but appreciative ‘thank-you’ came out from underneath her hat, making Violet smile softly before catching the stare of another royal.

Floris, just barely five, stood before the Lady, in near-tears. 

“Oh my, whatever is the matter, little one?” Violet held out her arms as she said it, wanting to comfort the boy before the tears fell. He was a sensitive child, always had been. 

Holding the boy close, she tried her best not to squash the blonde on her lap, but it was no use. The offended prince of sixteen years lifted himself to a sitting-position before scrutinizing his nephew. The child was nuzzled in the chest of Violet, and this only transferred as weak to the young prince.

“What’s he crying about, now?” Tommy asked incredulously. It seemed like his nephew was constantly crying about something new.

Little Floris, given the nickname Fundy from infancy, stepped away from Violet. He wiped his dampened eyes with his sleeve. The fuzzy small ears that he’d been born with were low, showing his distress.

“Daddy said a bad man is going to take you away.”

Violet could hear the soft ‘oh’ come from the blonde prince next to her as if he felt this was an acceptable excuse to cry. Fundy stared down the girl as her cheeks burned from embarrassment. She did not like to be reminded of her betrothal, and the fact that Wilbur had been conversing about it to his five-year-old son was… humbling, to say the least.

Tommy, the youngest son of King Phil, sensed the awkwardness that was occurring, and stood to his feet. He held out his hand for Fundy to take it so he could lead him away, but the child just stood watching Violet. She tried to come up with something to say, but without lying, she was sure to make him burst into tears. 

And so, she did the best she could.

“Erm… yes, a man is coming to take me away. But he’s not a bad man, Floris. He just lives far away, is all.”

Fundy was not convinced. Violet could see it in the way he narrowed his eyes. The tears that had previously been wiped away were beginning to return. 

“Daddy said he is old and stupid, and that you’d rather f-fuck a p-pig than marry him,” Fundy spit out in a small tantrum. For a five-year-old, he was usually well-spoken… if not a bit misled. 

From next to her, Tommy was sputtering out a laugh. Violet had heard enough. Gathering her skirts, she lifted herself from the ground and took a hold of the child’s waiting hand. She began to stride through the golden grass, eyes locked on her destination.

“Let’s go find your father, then, shall we?” 

Huffing, Violet walked slowly to calm her beating heart. Cheeks were heating once again, and she couldn’t blame the blaring sun. She continued to ignore Tommy as she strode through the tall grass. The prince in question was still trying to control his laughter as he followed her to the sparring men a few yards away. 

It took less than thirty seconds to make it to the two familiar faces that danced around each other. Violet would have to wait for the opportune moment to gather the attention of the sweaty men, but she was prepared to wait. She would make Wilbur pay for the words he put in his son’s mouth. 

Before her, wooden swords clanked away. From the looks of it, Wilbur was losing, but this wasn’t a surprise. The king-to-be was not exactly the best at sword-fighting, but he continued to get better as his younger brother trained him to the best he could possibly be.

But… perhaps today was less serious. Jests came from both men, following the swish and jabs of their swords. Laughter was bubbling inside Wilbur, but his brother was more serious. Nevertheless, Violet caught the small smile that appeared on the face of the younger prince, despite his best to keep an intimidating scowl on his face. 

Feeling as though this was the most opportune moment, Violet loudly spoke to the boys out of their violent trance.

“Wilbur Soot Watson, would you like to explain to me what your son just told me?” She kept her voice stern. He would not get away with this one. 

The clanking, jests, and jabs were suddenly stalled between the two men as they turned to look at their dearest Violet. It was not often that she used that tone on them, but they knew it well. To them, it was the equivalent to when their father would calmly gather them together in the same room after a prank was made on one of the Lords or Ladies of the court. When they thought of it, both Violet and their father had a way to make the simplest words scary.

Wilbur smiled nervously. He breathed out, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Would you like me to tell you the part in which he fears of a ‘bad man’ taking me away, or would you rather translate to me why he think’s I’d fuck a pig over a king?” 

Violet had spoken quickly, for she feared she might laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. This was certainly not a conversation she thought she would ever have. 

She lifted a brow at Wilbur, “So… Which is it?” 

Tommy was nearly losing his balance as he burst into more laughter next to Violet. He had to take hold of her arm to steady himself, but even that was futile. He settled by falling onto the ground in a fit.

His laughter was contagious. Little Floris was giggling at his uncle, letting go of Violet’s hand to tackle the boy. Wilbur stood chuckling to himself and smiled fondly at his son as he tried to maul his uncle who remained on the ground. 

Sweat trickled down the handsome face of Wilbur. It gave him the appearance of nervousness, but Violet knew very well that he could care less that his son was speaking the language of a sailor. 

“Well… I’d rather not take the blame of telling him of your going-away.” Wilbur’s face fell at his own words. Violet could feel the damn blood rush to her cheeks again. Before she knew it, his face was beginning to light up again. “But I will absolutely take the blame about the pig-fucking.”

His smile was back, as was Tommy’s laughter. 

It was annoying, really, how easy it was to forgive him. All of them.

Her gaze passed Wilbur to focus on the prince behind him. 

While his religious name was Dave (all of the boys were given names from the royal church when they were adopted), the small group called the warrior prince by his birth name. The name had been sewn onto the blanket that Phil had found the prince in when he was just a baby. He was half-piglin, they'd discover in his early childhood. Clearly a freak of his kind- a hybrid of sorts- everyone guessed he was given to the humans for a better life. They probably thought he'd be taken in as a servant boy- but instead, he became royalty to one of the most powerful kingdoms there was.

“Techno,” _short for Technoblade,_ “What do you make of this?” 

His downcast gaze was brought up to Violet; dark eyes matching even darker ones. He was smirking, but he wouldn’t allow himself to go past that emotional response. He shrugged, his tall figure moving along with his shoulders. A mess of pink hair that needed a trim, blew into Techno’s face as a gust of wind rushed by the group. This annoyed him greatly, and he took time to push his hair out of his face before answering Violet.

Finally, his gaze locked onto hers again. 

“I suppose the question is whether you’d fuck a pig over the old King.” 

The double-meaning was not lost on Violet. His teeth, sharp as he spoke, bared themselves in a full smile after he spoke.

While the boys around her erupted in laughter, the heat from Violet's cheeks spread downwards, pooling in her chest. The raven-haired girl glanced away from the group of immature boys to look towards the castle walls to hide her embarrassment. 

She was trying to deflect everything that was going on by looking for something to distract her, but she certainly was _not_ expecting to be answered as she spotted her brother from afar. He looked small, coming from the castle. It appeared he was running towards them in a hurry.

“Toby?” She said aloud to herself. Tommy sat up almost immediately at the sound of his best-friend’s name.

Her brother was supposed to be grounded to his room after his poor behavior two nights before. While Tommy was fully involved in the pranking that occurred, Toby unfortunately received the brunt of the punishment. King Phil had found humor in the boys’ prank, but Violet’s father was rather upset when he found out Toby had poured a mixture of horse shit and dirt into the ladies' bath house.

Tommy had felt terrible when he heard about Toby’s punishment, and for that, he wouldn’t allow himself to do anything of _too_ much fun until his friend got out of being grounded. Hence why he would not spar with the boys, even if it _was_ perfect weather. It was a sweet gesture, but above all, Violet wished Toby's grounding would teach Tommy a lesson- and she knew he'd forget all about this the moment her brother finished his punishment.

It took an entire minute for Toby to reach the group, and once he did, Tommy could not keep his excitement to himself. The boy was rushing past the group exclaiming “You’re free! You’re free!” while Violet laughed at his flailing arms. 

Toby was smiling at his friend’s childish antics. He pushed Tommy away before the blonde could hug the shorter boy. Offended, the prince messed with Toby’s hair, which brought another smile to shorter boy's face. 

“I’m not here for you, Tommy- get off of me!” 

Violet had to pry the young prince from her brother as the two began to wrestle as brothers would. Wilbur tried helping Violet in separating the two while also trying to hold back his son who was clearly trying to join in the fight. Techno, ever the hero, came up behind Fundy and swooped him into his arms to allow Wilbur to fully help Violet.

Finally separating the two, both boys had great big smiles on their faces once they realized they were losing to each of their older siblings. Violet released Tommy before walking to her panting brother. She brushed off the grass that had managed to attach to his shirt before taking her brother’s shoulders into her hands. Her sixteen-year-old brother was nearly her height, which was not saying much. The curse of their stunted growth must have come from their mothers, for their father towered over the two.

“What is it Toby? Has father finally released you from his imprisonment?” His sister asked him in good-humor. She grinned widely at him, waiting for an answer, patiently.

Toby grimaced. Violet looked so happy, there, with everyone around her. Toby loved seeing his sister happy- and hated that his father had sent him with news that would make her very unhappy. His eyes left his sister’s. He looked for something to focus on and found a green thread on his sister's dress that looked rather interesting. It was not until she repeated his name that he felt like he would have to make her sad.

“Father received a letter,” He practically mumbled into himself.

Everyone was quiet, then. Five pairs of eyes pinned Toby down. Violet's hands tightened their grasp on her brother's shoulders, making him feel grounded enough to tell them the news.

They had all anticipated a letter for days now. The letter in question would reveal how early the faraway king would want a union between himself and Violet. They all held still, even little Floris, as they watched the light in Violet’s eyes die when Toby revealed the message.

“King Alma has left his Kingdom and is expected to arrive here, in Viris, within a few days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short taste of what's to come! I wanted the first chapter to be a filler chapter to show the dynamics between most of the main characters before getting into deep shit. I'll try to update every week.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before King Alma arrives. Some Techno perspective at the end!

King Alma, whose very name translated to nourishing, was rumored to be anything but. While it was clear that he doted on his eldest child (a son, who was to inherit the King's title), it was unclear on whether the king loved anyone- or anything -more than he loved his throne.

The Kingdom of Drachlyn, named after the god of dreams, was King Alma’s object of power and he would do anything to fortify its walls. If marrying the daughter of the most trusted advisor to the King of Viris meant it would add extra cement to the stones of Drachlyn, then King Alma was willing to plan a wedding for himself.

At first, when her father secretly proposed a marriage to King Alma, Lady Violet Smith was a serious consideration for King Alma’s son. Later, it was realized that the future King of Drachlyn would need offspring that carried royal blood. Already having an heir to the throne, the present King of Drachlyn was unbothered by marrying a girl of Ladyship. To Alma, the real benefit of the betrothal (other than having a young girl in his bed) was the reliance he would gain from King Phil’s most trusted advisor, and eventually, the King of Viris.

All of this was somewhat known to the party of seven who sat in a small parlor for dinner the night before King Alma arrived.

This particular parlor was meant for the royal family’s use only, but additional guests from the house of Smith were always welcomed. Violet’s father and stepmother would dine in their own parlor, but the eldest of the Smith children were always encouraged to accept the King and Queen’s invitation- thinking it would only lead to good influence and reputation on the Smith’s.

The idea of gaining ‘good’ influence was contradictable, but Violet and Toby’s reputations were held at high regards by most of the court for being such good friends of the royals. The cheerful brother-and-sister duo was mostly loved by everyone, but nobody loved them like the royals. To them, Toby and Violet were family.

But dinner that night was an unusually somber affair.

The click-clack of iron cutlery against quartz plates was louder than ever as everyone ate silently. At the head of the table, sat King Phil, and opposite of him, sat the Queen. They were both the exact image of royalty, but something was off.

Most nights, they looked rather young for people of their position. But Phil’s true age certainly showed through the darkened expression he wore throughout dinner. He refused to acknowledge anyone, although, a small comforting look was casted at his wife every now and then.

Violet and Toby had never seen their king like this before, but his sons knew this look well. He had the same look every time he came back from war council. Their mother, always so kind and calm, would usually disperse his storm. But… the three princes were becoming increasingly concerned as even their mother would not speak peace into the room.

Without little Floris there, who had taken supper and gone to bed early, humorous and random distractions would be absent and unavailable to hide the Hoglin in the room. Violet almost regretted accepting the King and Queen’s invitation, something she thought she’d never admit. But the tension that surrounded the group of six was almost too thick. She could not breathe.

“I like- uh -your dress, Violet,” called Tommy from directly across the table. His piercing blue eyes stared appropriately at her waist, which was clad in a velvet black corset. A deep green satin dress sprouted from underneath, cuffing her wrists and neck with the soft material.

Violet smiled fondly at the youngest prince of Viris.

“Thank-you. Toby’s mother has organized me a new wardrobe. The first of the dresses have just arrived today.”

Wilbur perked up at the possible light-hearted conversation. The eldest prince sat directly to the left of Tommy. He smiled deviously before gesturing towards Violet and her new dress. “Oh? Did you perhaps finally grow out of your old ones?”

Violet wanted to reach across the table and snatch the goblet of wine that Wilbur cradled villainously in his hand but decided to chase her pride down with a swig of cherry wine. Cradling her own goblet to her chin, the lady thought very carefully on what to say. Her long, painted, nails clacked against the gold in her hand.

While Tommy and Toby still snickered from Wilbur’s remark, Violet finally recalled something Wilbur’s old fling would say.

“Well perhaps I have a difficult time growing in height,” another swig of wine, “but you should really consider in growing yourself, you know. I understand you have a _hard_ time getting over your ‘ghastly’ nerves, but it’s really putting-off the ladies at Elkin’s Tavern.”

At this, expensive wine was spit half across the table by the King himself. A drop landed on Lady Smith’s napkin, but she cared not when she wiped her mouth from the stains of dinner. She refused to acknowledge Wilbur’s glare, and instead cut herself a piece of cooked muton. Swishing the meat in the pooled sheep’s-blood on her plate, she daintily placed her slice on the tip of her fork.

Slowly pulling the piece to her mouth, Violet finally met the stare of Wilbur before slowly biting down on her muton. Winking at her dear friend, she smirked evilly before noticing the stares she was receiving.

“What?” Violet said with a chewing mouth.

The King, while still shocked at what was said, was trying his best to hide a smile behind his hand. The youngest two, Tommy and Toby, let their cackles slowly build up until they exploded in old-fashioned tummy-hurting laughter. Even Techno, who sat closest to his mother, and left of Wilbur, was laughing into his goblet. Violet wouldn’t have been able to tell if it weren’t for the fact that his sprawled body was relaxed enough for her to see his chest and stomach tighten and shake from the internal laughter that was occurring.

Taking great pride in making everyone but Wilbur and the Queen laugh, Violet took another drink of wine, this time gulping another for good measure. It felt like a reward.

“Do you still go to that damn brothel?” In typical mom-fashion, Queen Kristen was fully composed and staring disappointingly at her oldest son.

Wilbur could not look at his mother as he said “No, of course not.”

It was Violet who let out a laugh first, this time. It was not lady-like in the slightest, but she could not help the laughter that escaped her lips. Her brother followed suit, as did everyone else, except for Kristen and Will.

The laughter would have continued if it weren’t for the knock at the door.

Toby straightened his slack posture and Violet quickly pried her elbows away from the dinner table. She delicately folded her hands in her lap in a responsible manner, the way a lady should be.

Across the table, Tommy was constraining his laughter, taking deep breaths to control himself. Next to him, Wilbur scooted his chair closer to the table while looking expectantly at his lounging brother.

Technoblade stayed with his body turned in his chair, one leg swung over the furniture’s arm. His goblet from earlier was replaced with a sharp knife that came from the dinner table. He played with it, twirling the blade across his skilled digits in boredom. Techno went on ignoring everyone’s obvious stares. He wasn’t one to pretend false appearances.

Phil gave his middle child an exasperated look before granting access permission to whoever was outside the door.

A servant opened the door first, but then backed away accordingly, revealing Lord Smith.

Gerard Smith was a tall man. His head almost hit the top of the doorway before he bowed to his King and Queen. Violet and Toby both watched silently as their shared father turned to look at them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, your highnesses.” Phil flicked his hand as if it was nothing. He wasn’t often offended, and neither was his Queen. “Lady Smith and I have felt its best that we have all of our children head to bed early tonight. It’s a busy day tomorrow.”

Toby was already rising, knowing that he was lucky enough to even have had dinner with his friends. He was still technically grounded, after all.

His sister, on the other hand, sat still. Her brow was furrowed.

“I don’t understand why we must go _now_ , it’s hardly past sundown.”

Lord Smith stared down at his daughter. She sat closest to their King, which made it difficult for the lord to show his annoyance. A royal advisor must always keep his cool, especially with his children.

“It’s time to go, Violet.” His hand found her stiff shoulder. He squeezed gently, but she knew what its silent signal meant.

Phil watched the interaction with interest, as did his Queen. Their sons followed suit; Wilbur leaning forward in his chair and Tommy grinning excitedly. Techno sat furthest away from everyone, looking opposite of his brothers as he ignored the interaction between Violet and her father entirely. The iron knife was still in his hands, rapidly flittering through different positions from its wielder’s fingers.

Feeling pressured, Violet glared at Wilbur’s amused stare before throwing her cotton napkin on her plate. This signaled her submission.

Violet stood next to her brother and both bowed before their king. Her father had a pleased expression on his face as he too bowed in respect. Phil nodded graciously at the three, allowing their exit, but he looked disappointed. Violet chalked it up to the fact she had failed to give them all a show.

But Violet was tired of fighting her father when she knew very well, he would always win.

The Smith siblings could hear their father bidding the King a goodnight as they exited the room together. Gerard swiftly caught up to his children and placed himself in the middle of the two. Violet could tell he was slightly vexed at her challenging behavior from moments before, but her father was a man who suspended his anger when it came to small rebellious acts. His eldest learned long ago that Lord Smith hated confrontation more than letting his children get away with back talk, and so, Violet would challenge him often- but at a limit.

As Toby was shown the previous week, their father _did_ have a breaking point.

The Smith’s made it to their rooms in total silence. The castle was large enough to fit lavish apartments that would accommodate each of the Lords and Ladies and their families. When Violet’s father remarried and had soon after had Toby, she remembered moving to a different part of the castle. They’ve moved twice, since.

Violet liked their current rooms best, so far. She was biased only because she adored her personal room placement. The Smiths were placed on the top floor, along with the Royal family, which meant the view was prettier than all the others. Violet was the luckiest, having claimed the tower room that jutted out of the castle for an even better view.

Her family thought she loved her windows for the golden wheat fields and flower meadows from beyond, but she had a much better reason. There was one particular window in her small tower that overlooked the princes’ individual rooms. Granted, Violet could only see so much, especially since their drapes were nearly always closed, but that wasn’t always the case.

As Violet undressed for bed that night, her personal maid helping her out of the many layers of clothes she'd adorned, she couldn’t help but crane her neck to get a view into their rooms. Sometimes Tommy would leave little shiny trinkets in his diamond-paned window and it would never fail to bring a smile to Lady Smith’s face.

Gods- she needed a smile that wasn’t out of petty revenge over a dinner table.

Dismissing her maid once her nightgown was on, Violet waited for her to leave completely before skipping over to her special window. Unfortunately, no trinkets had managed to find their way into Tommy’s window. All three of the princes’ rooms were dark from heavy drapes, and Violet sighed in disappointment. She would have to wait a little while longer.

She scribbled at her desk for a while, keeping her candlelight at a minimum since she was technically supposed to be sleeping. No matter how hard she tried, Violet kept staining her fingers with ink as she practiced her penmanship. When she felt like she had done enough damage, the lady let out one last curse before taking her candle to the windowsill that overlooked the princes’ rooms.

Moving her own drapes away, Violet felt another wave of disappointment.

Still not there.

Shaking her head at her slight ridiculousness, Violet grabbed a book before settling on the cushioned bench of the window. Her head rested on the windowpane as she read in the dim candlelight. The drapes of the window closed around her, trapping her in the small cozy nook. She felt so safe… but her comfort rapidly turned into sadness as she realized she wouldn’t have _this,_ for much longer.

Her father, no matter the amounts of times she had pleaded with him, thought marrying her off to a far-off kingdom would be in her best interest.

Violet felt like it would kill her. She feared for the day that it might happen.

It was much later when Violet began losing a battle with sleep. Her book of poems was propped on her knees, but the pages that lay open had not turned for quite some time. She must have read the same line over twenty times- she should have gone to sleep -but she was waiting for something.

And finally, when her eyes were beginning to close in permanence, she saw movement.

There- the second window on the wall adjacent to her small tower – a small light appeared in the diamond-paned window, and with it, a man and his book. From where she was, Violet could only make out obvious details- but it was as it usually was.

Drapes were carefully maneuvered in places where they couldn’t bother him. Due to the shoulder-length hair that was strung into a high knot on the top of his head, the moon-shaped glasses that perched themselves on the tip of his nose were easily visible. The candle that burned near his book was fresh- ready for a long night of reading.

Violet blew out her own candle quickly. She did _not_ want to be detected- especially since she’d been watching him ever since she had move into the tower. She didn’t watch him every night (she wasn’t crazy) but only when she needed the comfort of knowing someone else was alive and awake. To her knowledge, he did this every night. The man never slept.

But just like all the nights before, Violet felt comforted as she watched him settle into his reading. His skin glowed softly under a mixture of moonlight and candlelight, and it was pleasing to watch him breathe deeply before turning one page after another. He was so calculated, so coordinated, despite his usual awkward demeanor in court.

It was finally time to sleep. Violet debated getting up and burrowing underneath the blankets of her nearby bed, but opted for staying put. Her nook was comfortable enough, and warm, as the summer night continued to simmer outside the window's glass.

In false hope, her eyelids closed in order to cast a scene in which Violet got everything she wanted. She dreamt of a world in which she wouldn’t marry a stranger. She would get to stay; she would continue to frolic in the wheat fields with her friends; she would get to watch Floris, Tommy, and Toby grow into good men; she would marry for love.

And the thought of it would be enough, for now.

***...***

Dawn began slowly, as it always did. First, the black world became grey, and then grey turned into a warm color that spread nicely across Techno’s tanned skin.

At some point in the night, his light-pink hair had managed to escape its knot. This made it easy for his fingers to rake through his long locks when he sighed in relief at the incoming sun.

No one knew it, but his piglin blood gave him nocturnal tendencies that were hard to overcome.

Now that the sun was beginning its journey over Viris and many other kingdoms alike, Techno felt as though he’d be able to get several hours of sleep in before the servants woke him for the wretched day. He could ask them to go away, and they would, but he had learned long ago that a lot was expected of him- even if he wasn’t the future king. If he slept through the day… yet another reason to scorn the mongrel prince.

Blinking slowly, the prince of two-and-twenty scanned the page he’d been reading over, before closing the book shut. His scarred and calloused hands brushed against the leather binding in familiar appreciation. It was one of his favorites, and he kept it underneath the cushions that belonged to the window bench for safety and useful purposes. It taught him everything he needed to know about being different; being an outcast.

Techoblade’s heavy eyes trailed out of his window and latched onto the sleeping girl he called friend. He didn’t have many of those, not genuine at least, and she was one of the best of them.

She was terrible at stealth, though.

That was nearly punishable in his eyes, but he supposed that her undying loyalty to him and his family made up for it. Through his moon-shaped glasses, Techno was able to gaze upon her without any judgment. Her arms wrapped around her shins that were covered in a cotton nightgown. Head lulled to the side, she rested on the window’s glass. She was pretty, always was, but she was prettiest when she thought nobody was looking. When this happened, her act stopped, and she just… was.

Violet.

She had been doing this since moving into that pathetic little tower, but Techno would never tell her that he knew she watched him read until she felt comforted enough to rest. She would stop watching him if he told her.

He understood what it felt like to feel alone and knew even better the relief that came with solving that problem.

When he was little, crawling into Wilbur’s bed had become a habit after he would spend hours looking at his ceiling. All of the jeers and slurs that the court called him behind his back would come to him, and he’d have to remember their faces when they said it. They truly meant it, with all their hearts; they hated him.

But like a sixth sense, Will would move to make room for Techno before the teary-eyed prince had even reached Will’s bed. At this, the little hybrid would crawl into his brother's bed feeling like the world was on his side once again.

He knew Violet relied on his presence just as small Techno once relied on Will, and so, despite having a perfectly good chair that sat by the fire, he propped himself against his window and read until dawn washed over him and his books.

It wasn’t that bad, the window seat, but he always ended up regretting it. His stiff muscles and joints would scream in pain as he raised from his spot. The royal masseuse assumed all of his knots and soreness came from his constant training, but he knew damn well it was from that fucking bench.

In a daze, Technoblade shed his nightshirt and threw his glasses on the nightstand before crawling into bed. He barely made it under the covers before passing out. The soft rays that were beginning to pierce into his room casted a golden light onto everything. This became a comfort to the prince and allowed him to have visions of nothing but a soft void.

But if he _were_ to dream, he would probably dream of a day in which he’d slit the throat of the man who tried to take away someone who was very dear to him.

Even if this man _happened_ to be a king-

_Especially_ if he happened to be a king. That would mean all the more fun.

The thought of it nearly left Technoblade with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will later be explained in the fic, but I wanted to let everyone know that Techno was found AFTER Wilbur was adopted (in this universe), so Techno is technically the 'middle child', even if he and Will are practically the same age. (They don't know his exact age. For all they know, he could be several hours younger OR older than Wilbur ;)) 
> 
> If you like this story so far, please leave feedback! It makes me happy to know people are reading my work and are enjoying it.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Alma arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loooong chapter ahead. Good luck!

“Wakey, wakey, miss. It’s the big day!”

Someone was shaking Violet’s shoulder in haste and the girl woke up in a start. Her head lifted from the window to look at her personal maid who seemed unphased by the fact that her Lady was sleeping on the window bench.

Her maid began to bustle about, getting a day-dress out of Violet’s wardrobe while also gathering her breakfast and daily medicine. It took a few minutes for the Lady to process what was happening. She was not a morning person.

When several liquid mixtures were shoved into her face, the sleepy girl finally felt in-tune with her surroundings.

Violet took her daily dose of medicine with a disgusted face. Their Lord father made both her and Toby take the same medicine, and he was adamant about it. The two siblings guessed that his apprehensiveness towards possible illnesses was because of the misfortune that befell his first wife, Violet’s mother. 

It was then, that Violet wondered how her mother would feel about all of it: the arranged marriage; the obvious pawn she was being made into; the fact that she had given up on fighting her father.

Would the girl’s deceased mother support her husband, or her daughter? Or would she give up, too?

She couldn’t remember her mother; Violet was barely a year old when her mother passed from a mysterious illness. After her death, Lord Smith had gone on many long diplomatic trips, leaving the royal nannies to raise the motherless girl. It wasn’t until Violet was another year older when the newlywed Queen and King decided to integrate her nursery with their two adoptees.

“My Lady, stop daydreaming, and eat!”

The scolded girl was jolted out of her thoughts as a bowl of porridge and a side of fresh fruit was sat in front of her. Picking up her silver spoon begrudgingly, she began to eat.

After breakfast, Violet was guided to a dress that was laid out on her bed. Her regular maid was accompanied by another, and the two began to string-up the young lady in expensive blue and dark grey fabrics.Violet made a face at the choice of dress. Blue and dark grey were the colors of Drachlyn. It made sense, to wear such a dress, but that didn’t mean that she had to like it. The colors were gods-awful together and did nothing for her complexion.

Hair was done next, and after both maids felt she was suitable enough for a king, she was allowed out of her room. Violet left the women in haste, skipping down the staircase and into her family’s parlor. Her two little sisters (both golden-haired and already at an incredible height for their age) were running around like little cave spiders. They both gave their sister a “Good morning, Violet!” before running past her, into the family room.

The girl of nineteen followed her younger siblings into the Smiths common room and found yet another sibling of hers. Violet smiled warmly at her brother, before noticing the frown and discomforting look on his face.

“What is the matter?” Violet asked while moving over to him.

Toby sat stiffly on the couch, clutching his head in his hands. His dark hair, a tad bit lighter than her own, drooped around his face and hands. Violet sat next to him, rubbing a hand softly on his hunched back. The boy could only groan into hands as a severe pain shot through his head.

“Toby?” Violet softly inquired.

“I’m fine, Vi. My head is just…” Toby sighed and straightened himself into a proper sitting position. “My head is pounding, and I do not know why…”

Just as he began to explain his troubles, Gerard Smith entered the room.

Toby stopped speaking immediately and made himself look presentable. The pain was still in his eyes, but a small smile was painted over a frown. Violet could tell from the way his shoulders bunched closer to his head that he was hurting.

“Good morning, father,” Toby said.

He was selling his act- and succeeding.

“Good morning, children. Are we ready for today?”

Lord Smith asked this question to _all_ of his children, but Violet felt targeted as he only looked at her. She stared challengingly at him before nodding her head, hoping to get him off her back.

Obviously, she wasn’t ready, she would _never_ be ready.

Her stare turned into a glare as her father nodded happily. Violet’s eyes continued to trail after her father in hatred as he went over to his youngest children. When he spoke to them, his posture changed, and his eyes softened. It wasn’t a family secret that he had his favorites.

 _I bet he’d never sell them off to a stranger_ , Violet thought bitterly. The idea almost brought tears to her eyes.

A hand slipped into her own, and she looked down to see Toby’s fingers squeeze her hand three times. They both knew what it meant, and his small message meant the world to Violet. But then, the soon-to-be wedded girl was desperate. Her grasp on Toby’s hand tightened, and her eyes began to fill with fear.

“Stay close today, okay? I’ll need you to keep me sane.”

Toby’s pained eyes turned into ones of regret. He remembered what day it was. Suddenly, his headache was the least of his worries.

Violet had tears in her eyes again. Waves of sadness echoed between the two siblings.

Toby sighed, before wincing. His pain was back, but the headache didn’t stop him from comforting his sister as he give her a sincere hug. Violet hugged back, surprised. Toby wasn’t one for hugging, but neither was she, and so she hugged him back tightly.

The young boy mumbled his words over her shoulder, “Of course, Vi. I’ll always be there.”

…

They were all in the main hall, awaiting something very important.

This was where all of the important social events occurred in the Kingdom of Viris, and where they would meet King Alma for the first time. The main hall was huge, able to fit a crowd of a thousand- comfortably. While there were not a thousand people gathered _yet_ , the foreign king was bound to bring hundreds of subjects from his court along with him.

King Phil was dressed as a king should, looking more regal than usual. His feathered wings, which were usually covered by magic for tactical and convenient purposes, were visible. Each grand wing sprouted out of a thick cloak that was threaded in green and purples. He was wearing his kingdoms colors.

To all of his subjects, he looked every bit the king they loved and protected.

To his right, stood Kristen, who wore a beautiful gown the same colors of her husband’s cloak. Her hair had been twisted into a magnificent braid that complimented the crown that sat on her head. Both the King and Queen had matching crowns, Kristen’s being slightly smaller for obvious reasons. Their arms were locked together, each leaning into the other, magnifying their loving union to the crowd.

Around the couple were the three princes.

Wilbur was exceptionally handsome that day; dark curly hair tamed, face freshly shaven. His black cloak and clothing assemble was simple, with tones of greens here and there, but he looked nice. When his eyes grazed over any girl in the hall, she’d be labeled a fool _not_ to blush. He had a look on his face that was simply irresistible, and he could not help but wink at Violet once he caught her looking at him from across the large room.

She must have been a fool, for she did not blush. Her eyes only rolled themselves to the back of her head.

Next to Wilbur was Technoblade, who also looked terribly attractive. While his protruding bottom canines were always a cause of distraction, the green emeralds he adorned on his hands, neck, and pointed ears were more of a diversion. The hair closest to his head was braided while the rest of it fell to his shoulders. Feathery pink strands that escaped the braids framed his angular face rather nicely and Violet was glad he failed to notice her observing him. She liked watching how he acted as though he did _not_ know he was the best-dressed out of his family.

Tommy, bless him, was clearly just happy to be there. His occasional waving towards Toby, who stood across the room next to Violet, began to get more and more obnoxious as the minutes went on. The two younger boys looked well-groomed themselves, but they clearly did not care. Tommy kept messing with his cuffs, and Toby’s elbow frequently bumped into his sister as he tried to adjust the collar of his shirt.

It had been half an hour since the royal family gathered everyone, and finally, the whole court had assembled. It was not clear when the King of Drachlyn would arrive, but the scouts were only ever off by an hour. Everyone kept conversation to a minimum. The small buzz of voices was annoying, but it was better than the usual boisterous atmosphere that occurred during any regular day.

Finally, a far-off sound started. It was an instrument, loud and clear as it pierced the air. Everyone’s volume increased, the excitement rising along with their whispers.

Violet felt her chest tighten from fear.

The King had arrived.

**…**

It took another thirty minutes for the King of Drachlyn and his party to enter the beautiful castle of Viris. It was well-known how wealthy King Alma’s kingdom was, but from the many whispers that went from kingdom to kingdom, their architecture was nothing compared to that of the City of Peace. To be fair, not many kingdoms could compare themselves to Viris, but King Phil could not help but swell in pride as he watched this foreign king enter his hall with a slight look of jealousy on his face.

King Alma’s party was large, as was expected. Most of his servants had stayed outside, but several dozen Lords and Ladies from Drachlyn’s court followed close behind this King. Their fashion was slightly different to that of Viris’, but they looked practically normal-

But there was something missing.

Wilbur narrowed his eyes at this foreign group of people, sensing his father’s concern. He couldn’t place it either.

His brother, on the other hand, spotted it in an instance.

With a look of disgust, Techno leaned over to his brother and whispered, “They’re _all_ humans. Not another race in sight.”

And he was right. The royal family had heard Techno’s claim and began to search for anything other than human. Druids, Satyrs, Fae, half-breeds of any kind, were all absent. The subjects of Viris, while having great populations of humans, had dozens of different races living in its boarders, making up more than half of the total population. It was uncommon to see such a crowd without such diversity. Phil, the king _himself_ was Fae. His wings were evidence of the claim. 

At the head of this crowd, was the King of Drachlyn.

Alma was certainly good-looking for his age and stature. His salt-and-pepper hair was cropped close to his head, and a beard covered most of his face. He looked strong and had an aura about him that seemed powerful. He wore his kingdom’s colors in his cloak- but what was most shocking was the full set of armor he wore. It was polished and shiny, as if it had never been used. A longsword hung at his side; it too looking brand-new.

It was then that Phil realized what sort of man this was. The lack of diversity… the obvious show of dominance… It was all the actions of a tyrant.

A disgrace.

But… as a King, he had a duty.

Swallowing his pride, the King of Viris spread his arms in greeting and smiled like a humble king should. “King Alma. We are all overcome with joy at your safe journey from your kingdom to ours. We hope to impress you with our hospitality while you stay within our boarders.”

Alma, who had not changed his covetous expression since he had walked in, suddenly smiled graciously. He had a smile that sent no joy through Phil as he watched down on this foreign king. It was the smile that made Phil dread the deal Gerard had made between Violet and this man.

Phil’s eyes flicked to the girl in his thoughts. She was by her brother, unable to see the face of her betrothed. She was clutching her brother’s arm as though he was the only thing keeping her steady. Regret of not doing anything sooner began to haunt Phil as he looked at the two desperate children.

But war had been raged for far less than the breaking of a marriage promise.

Returning his gaze to this King, Phil smiled painfully back.

He would have to play this safe.

“Let us take our greetings towards one-another somewhere more private, shall we?” Gesturing towards an exit only authorized for royalty and close friends, Phil began to usher his family out of the room. He turned seconds later, remembering to give a nod to Lord Smith and his family to follow, despite his great dislike towards his advisor in that current moment.

The Lords and Ladies of Drachlyn were ushered to their own placements while their King, his son, and personal guards were led away. The people of Viris watched in interest as these foreign people all began to filter out. And when the entertainment was all finished, they all dispersed. The great hall was soon empty once again.

**…**

Violet and her family were led by guards into a large drawing room that would probably hold them for the next few hours. In there, she would meet her betrothed for the first time, as well as his son (who was two years older than she). In that room, she guessed would probably hyperventilate and die.

They trailed their way to the solar behind the royal guests. She could not see, but Violet knew King Alma led them. His son, whom she had caught a glimpse of, was far more handsome than she had expected. She nearly burst into tears when she had seen him, knowing he had been an option for herself before she was handed over to his father. The young prince was tall with blonde hair, green eyes, a beautiful and kind smile; he looked like someone she could have fallen for quite easily.

Behind the foreign prince were three men whom Violet assumed were personal guards. They looked intimidating, except for the one in the middle. He clearly wasn’t a guard- but a close servant, perhaps. He had no weapons on him, and he was rather short compared to the others. Nevertheless, Violet noted his youthful handsomeness as well.

 _Why must I be bothered to marry the oldest of men?_ Violet wanted to cry for the hundredth time that day.

A hand slipped into her own and three squeezes followed.

“Just breathe, Vi. We’re going to be fine.” Toby whispered this to his sister, who still felt terrible, even after his words of encouragement. She didn’t _feel_ fine.

She felt utterly used.

The group of royals, Lords, and Ladies all compiled into the royal family’s solar room once they reached their destination. Each seat that was available was taken by nearly everyone, except for the personal guards, who stood against a wall closest to their king.

King Phil’s personal guards also felt obligated to stay, and Violet spotted the new trainee give his commander a look. They weren’t used to being so… on guard? Their King was usually in safer hands with his sons than he was with his guards but… they were not so sure, now.

Violet found herself whisked away from her brother before she could sit. Her father and step-mother carefully led her to where the royal family of Viris sat, as well as the guests she was terrified to meet with. Both of her arms were held by her carers, and she could not help but wonder if they were doing so to give her support just in case she were to faint, or to make sure she wouldn’t run away. Either one could happen, most definitely.

Her body felt like lead as she was presented before her dearest friends and (possible) future enemies. She couldn’t see herself to ever feel anything more than friendly towards the man she so desperately wanted to get away from. But alas, her gaze was forced as her parents placed her body only just a few feet away from the sitting King.

“Your Highness, King Alma, please allow us to present our eldest daughter, Lady Violet Sarah Smith.” Her father was loud. The vibrations that came from his words were felt in Violet’s left arm, which he still held. Violet wanted to squirm away as they all three bowed, but afterwards stood completely straight as she held the grey eyes of her betrothed.

He was cold. No flame nor warmth was held behind those eyes.

Somehow, this strengthened Violet’s demeanor. She held her chin up higher and her legs planted firmly onto the rug below herself. Knowing that this King wasn’t about to play a pretending game was somehow… relieving. She felt stronger, but a large pit began to consume her as she realized the wrath that would be able to occur behind those eyes.

“Ah, so you really are as beautiful as they say.” His voice was nice, in a cruel sort of way. It was clear, almost kind, but it was deceitful. If Violet only heard his voice, she’d perhaps believe he was a man to be loved; not feared.

King Alma reached out a hand to gesture to the young-man who sat next to him.

“This is my son, Prince Clay of Drachlyn, heir to my throne,” he said all of this without looking away from the young woman before him. To some, it may have seemed inappropriate, but Violet sense no arousal from the king, only a deep interest. She was something to be tamed, and he was analyzing how to do so. “Is he not just as handsome as I?”

Violet, who had broken her staring contest with the king to look to his son, snapped her eyes away from this Clay person. She was met with the same cold eyes once more. King Alma’s question was untoward, and it was evident in the way her step-mother stopped breathing.

For a moment, Violet believed she would have to answer him; to humiliate herself with a response that would burn her entire being. She could already feel her face warming.

But of course, someone was always there to save the day.

“What a bold question, your highness,” Wilbur said from behind the Smith’s. Violet turned her head to witness a mischievous look come from her dearest friend.“One I’ve only ever heard a foolish man ask.”

Violet and her parents turned around and took several steps away so that the two royals could officially meet. The royal family of Viris all sat opposite of King Alma, and each family member who _wasn’t_ Wilbur had looks of slight horror on their faces. The eldest prince tried his best to hide his smile behind a convenient hand as he leaned into his chair, but his mockery was clear.

Violet could only watch in fear as she looked between Wilbur and her betrothed. This foreign king was not someone to mess around with, she could tell. Wilbur’s usual banter would seem disrespectful to Alma- and it was clear just from the look on his face.

“Foolish? Surely not,” Alma finally said back. This was still not enough to calm the storm, though. Everyone held their breath. “Vain? Of course. I am a king, after all.”

Violet nearly let out a breath of relief to hear a small bit of jesting in his tone. This was still not enough to calm the storm, though. It didn’t matter that Alma was smiling at the prince. His eyes were still cold as he stared directly at Wilbur. 

Prince Clay, who sat stiffly next to his father, looked worried himself. He looked at Wilbur with a face that clearly said ‘you don’t want to try this.’ His green eyes were true as he looked to Violet, clearly asking her to stomp the fire out before it became unbearably hot in there.

This was cause enough for Violet to feel obligated to speak up.

“And for good reason, your highness,” Violet said. She was shocked at how loud she was, and everyone turned their heads to look at her. When she met Wilbur’s eyes, he looked offended that she had interrupted his fun. She glared at him for making things so difficult. “For your handsomeness goes beyond a golden crown. I too would be vain if my accessories looked dull compared to thine own beauty.”

 _Gods,_ Violet began to think to herself, _this is the most humiliating thing that has ever come out of my mouth. Thine own beauty? The absolute fuck I think I am?_

But it worked. A small smile was placed on King Alma’s face, one that didn’t look like a threat, and he seemed amused. Whether that meant he believed her, or if he knew she lied, didn’t matter. He clearly only cared that his image was upheld by a pretty lady who was to be his wife.

Violet could feel the pride radiate from her father as he stood next to her. He had finally let go over her arm. She supposed he felt like he could trust her since she had kissed this king’s ass.

“I am pleased to receive such a embellished compliment from such a lovely creature as yourself, Lady Violet.”

 _Creature?_ Violet smiled at Alma in thanks despite her anger rising. Her act was improving by the second, and her heart was sinking just as fast.

_I am disgusting._

Violet was soon led away accordingly, to sit in her assigned seat. She was near her brother once more, and clasped her shaking hand into Toby’s nearest one. Her face was pink, and she knew it would spread to her neck, and then her chest. Not wanting to draw attention to her cut-of-blouse, she quickly distracted herself with the tapestries on the wall.

The royals were getting to know one another. King Phil and Queen Kristen were smoothing over any harsh feelings their son may have caused as they told Alma the “drab” story in how they met and why it felt “important” to adopt children who were less fortunate than they were.

“Too many children in this world are without parents- which is why we first adopted our beautiful Wilbur, then our talented Dave-“ Kristen’s speech was cut off as she realized a crucial detail. “Where is Techno?”

Violet stopped looking at the art on the walls. She looked around the room and realized the middle prince was not there. Everyone else who knew the man seemed to have realized this as well.

“Techno?” Echoed King Alma. He had a displeased look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe someone had such a name.

“Yes, father, I told you about him. He’s supposedly the best fighter in all the Kingdoms,” this was said by Clay, who looked interested suddenly. He had excitement in his eyes as he shared his information to the room. “I’d like to spar with him, actually… I want to see how good he really is.”

“Oh, I bet you would.” Tommy said, suddenly. He glared at Clay. He did not like this foreign king one bit, and his ‘prince' son looked like a bitch, too. Tommy didn’t like bitches. “But Techno doesn’t spar with amateurs.”

“I’m guessing you know this by experience?” Clay asked the youngest prince without a moment of thought.

Tommy nearly sputtered in anger, his mother having to place a hand on his arm to get him to settle in his seat. He glared at Clay as he pointed out that he is “trained by Technoblade, actually. And hardly anyone gets trained by him.”

“So you need _special_ training, then? What was it about _normal_ training that was not making the cut?”

Violet had to give props to this foreign prince- Tommy’s chaotic wit was not usually matched. But it seemed he had met his equal. It brought joy to the Smith siblings to see the young prince being humbled. Toby had a large grin on his face as he watched his best-friend get flustered.

Before Tommy could explode with insults, Alma spoke to calm the storm.

“Now, _Clay_ , you _know_ I hired some of the best swordsmen in all the land to train you- you’re just being hypocritical, son.” Everyone was mildly shocked as the King talked to his son as if he were a mere child.

Tommy had a victorious expression on his face, but Violet could not help but feel sorry for the prince who looked discouraged. She knew what it felt like to have a moment of happiness be taken away by a father.

“I _do_ want to hear more about this- Technoblade -of yours. Where is he, exactly?” Alma asked once he stopped scolding his only son.

Phil and Kristen both looked to their two other sons for answers. Tommy simply shrugged. Wilbur, looking at his parents mid-yawn, shook his head. He had not seen where his brother had gone, and quite frankly, he didn’t care. Techno always did his own thing.

Phil, who had been quiet for most of the time, took the time to explain his middle child to Alma. “Our second son’s religious name is Dave, if you prefer it, but when we found him on the castle steps twenty-one years ago, his birth-name was sewn on his blanket. It fits him quite well, actually.”

Phil smiled knowingly, as did everyone else in the room who knew the middle prince.

Violet did not miss the way her father sneered in secrecy. He loathed Piglins, it was no secret. He had gotten into a bad fight with a Piglin tribe- years before she was born- and he still suffered from injuries from that day. He would never tell her why he was in the nether in the first place, but only that their King had asked him to retrieve something.

Her father was not the only one who despised Techno’s lineage. Most races had quarrels with Piglins. But… many people were able to look past a persons parentage; especially a prince’.

Gerard Smith was not one of them, it seemed.

“You know not who his birth-parents are?” Asked Alma. He looked concerned, if not disgusted. He could not imagine raising a child without knowing where it came from.

Kristen took her youngest son’s hand into her own. Tommy was beginning to get heated again. His entire existence was being challenged. His mother’s thumb brushed the top of his hand soothingly.

“We don’t know the birth-parents of any of our children, King Alma. But if we _did_ ,” Kristen’s eyes narrowed slightly. It was enough for Alma to feel scrutinized. “It would not make a difference. We love our family for who they are, and that is all.”

Violet felt very proud to have a queen as benevolent as hers. If the marriage between herself and Alma went through… well, she could only hope to become as righteous and kind as Kristen.

Phil was holding his wife’s other hand. A small smile was placed on both of their faces, and it was painfully clear to see how in-love they appeared to be. It was not lost on the foreign king to see the way everyone in the room respected their royals, and even reflected the love they were witnessing. Even the Viris guards had looks of fondness on their faces

It was pathetic.

King Alma reigned in his disgust. After all, this “trip” was not _only_ to gain a bride. If he really wanted to marry the girl as soon as possible, he would have just demanded her to be brought to him. But coming to Viris… it was important. He was already beginning to see the ways in which he could manipulate his way into the politics of the kingdom.

This King and Queen may have had beautiful buildings, wealth, highly-skilled soldiers, and loyalty…

But they were weak. Their emotions were displayed too often, which would make it easier for Alma to prey without consequence.

With a new bride in Alma’s arms (his bride, who clearly held the tender affection of everyone in the room, including the King and Queen of Viris) he’d be able to infiltrate a deeper part of this Kingdom than what he thought was previously possible. She would be his pawn, and he had great plans for such a beautiful woman. Some were selfish, but the other plans- the important ones- would allow him to gain more power.

Alma did not want to get rid of Viris- no, he most certainly did not want to do that -but to control it? Absolutely.

He glanced over at his future wife. A grin was pulled out of him as he realized she had been staring at him. Her frightful eyes were pulled away from his, her brow tugging into a worried crease and her bottom lip being bit anxiously.

 _Yes_ , Alma thought to himself, _she will be fun to play with._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I'll try to get one more chapter in before the year is over, but no promises!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet finds a friend in the library, new characters are introduced, and King Alma is clearly prejudiced.

After tea, Violet was allowed to go on her way.

Wilbur helped Violet out of her chair so that they could exit together, along with Toby and Tommy. Before the two boys were even out of the room, they were whispering decelerations of joy from being freed from propriety. The young boys trailed behind Violet and Wilbur, who linked arms as they walked next to each other.

From the corner of his eye, Wilbur could see King Alma eye Violet and himself as they made their way to the exit. The eldest prince could not help but to smile deviously. His grin widened as he leaned his head closer to his dear friend and whispered “Don’t be alarmed. I’m making it appear as though I’m flirting with you.”

He was so close; Violet could feel his breath move the wisps of hair that surrounded her ear. She rolled her eyes, exiting the room with a flustered giggle. She didn’t care how dangerous it was to toy with a King, Wilbur was making it rather fun.

“Oh Will, you’re _always_ flirting with me,” Violet said back to him in confidence. But she quickly added, “ _And_ every girl you’ve ever came into acquaintance with.”

Once they were fully out in the hall, she let go of the prince’s arm. There was no need to follow the rules when they were alone together. She looked at all three of the boys before asking: “By the way, would you all like to come look for Techno with me? I’m sure I know where he is.”

The group of four were still walking, making their way around the castle with ease. They stopped in a drafty corridor, only a few rooms away from where they came. The windows of the hallway were large and showed the true beauty of the day. Tommy and Toby were both looking out longingly.

Violet rolled her eyes, “Go on, you two.”

Toby looked at his sister; looked at Tommy; looked outside; looked at his sister again. He was having a war with himself. He had promised to stay with Violet all day. He was supposed to be her support, but… the day was so nice, and his father was actually letting him play with Tommy…

“Toby.” Violet looked at her brother dead in the eyes. “Go. I’m fine, now. Have fun.”

Her brother did not need to be told twice. Both he and Tommy began to take off with wide grins. Tommy shouted a ‘thanks’ at Violet before the boys were sprinting to find an exit that led outside.

“That was nice of you,” Wilbur said. He was watching the boys’ giddy escape with a smile. “But I’m afraid I can’t look for my brother right now, either. I’d like to see my Floris, if you wouldn’t mind. You can come with? He’s very fond of you, you know.”

Violet weighed her options. Wilbur seemed genuine in his invitation, and she was fond of Fundy, too… but it all seemed too emotionally taxing. A trip to the library seemed so much better. There, she would be able to recharge.

Shaking her head, Violet declined Wilbur’s offer.

“I think I shall go to the library, instead. Send Floris my love.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tonight, then, at dinner."

With a wink, Wilbur turned and left Violet in the corridor.

The Lady let another moment pass before taking her own path. She exited out the nearest door that led to one of the courtyards outside. In the center, a large fountain with a statue in the middle stood proudly.

The Goddess of Peace: Viris.

She was always Violet’s favorite Goddess, but perhaps it was a biased opinion.

Walking past a row of cherry blossoms, Violet reached the wooden spruce door that led into another corridor. Turn after turn, the largest hallway of them all presented itself to Violet before she spotted the massive doors that would open to the Castle’s public library.

Most wealthy families would have their own personal selection of books in their apartments, but the castle’s library was so much better. There were hundreds of books that were one of a kind, and dozens of nooks and crannies to hide in.

Violet entered the library with a sigh of relief. The smell of old leather, paper, and burning wax filled the air. To her right, the old librarian and his apprentice were sorting through new arrivals.

The young apprentice was Violet’s age, but much smarter and equally as pretty. If she had been brought up in proper society, she could have made even Wilbur consider marriage.

The thought was hysterical to Violet. She fought a smile as she made her way over to young girl.

“Niki,” The girl in question looked up from stacking new books. Her pale blonde hair was pulled into a simple knot at the back of her head but the black curtain bangs that framed her face were in her eyes as she looked up to see Violet walking towards her. “I was wondering if my poetry copy came in. Last you heard; it was all the way in…?”

“Oh! No, it’s here. Hold on- “

Niki stopped what she was doing and left Violet without another word. The blonde’s tattered grey dress swished around her frame as she stood on her tiptoes to retrieve the requested book. She walked back to her station once she had grabbed it and handed it over with a smile.

“Here. I hope you don’t mind, but I read a little bit of it. It was too interesting not to.”

Violet smiled back. It was genuine. Not many of those had transpired of late.

“It’s rare to find someone who likes poetry as much as I do.”

Niki blushed while looking down at her hands, sheepishly. She didn't know how to talk to someone of high and noble birth. But... Violet was always so kind. Niki had a feeling she'd be able to be honest with her.

“Oh… well, I prefer most novels over any kind of poetry but… You have good taste.”

The girls parted with soft giggles and a budding friendship.

Violet was still on a high after she climbed one of the staircases that led to the second level of the library. Knowing her destination, she made her way around the second level before stopping just before she reached the furthest corner in her facing direction. She listened carefully, and just like she had guessed, the sound of a low hum and turning pages graced her ears.

Turning the corner of one of the bookshelves, her prediction came true. The scene was exactly as she expected it to be.

“Where _were_ you?” Violet didn’t wait for him to answer before taking one of the seats on the over-stuffed couch.

At her opposite, sat the middle prince, who seemed unbothered by her sudden interrogation. He had stopped humming. Techno was looking over his book at her, as well as his moon-shaped glasses that were perched on the very tip of his nose. Violet envied the way he could make such a simple stare look so intimidating.

“Uhhhhhhh… I was here. In the library. Readin’.”

But as per-usual, Technoblade opened his fanged mouth, and the intimidation factor was ironically gone. His mono-toned voice could be terrifying if he tried, but it usually ended up sounding like he was constantly bored. To many, he seemed stoic, but those closest to him knew the awkward prince was just constantly over-analyzing everything- unable to feel or show anything else.

Violet rolled her eyes the second time that day at a prince and kicked her slippers off before stretching on the couch to read. She would let him have his quiet. The young woman didn’t blame him for escaping the shit-show from before.

They both read in silence once it was clear she wouldn’t press him for answers.

This happened often.

Sometimes, one of the two would find themselves escaping court to come to the second-floor corner, and the other was never too far behind. It wasn’t as though it happened every day, but it was a weekly occurrence. They never spoke about their meetings, it just happened.

Violet was a quarter-way through her poetry book when their silence was interrupted.

Surprisingly, it came from her reading buddy.

“How was it? The meetin’ with King Alma.”

Techno’s book was completely shut. His glasses remained, but his closed book surprised Violet. She glanced from the book on his lap, to his face. His dark eyes refused to face her directly, but he looked interested in an answer.

Violet closed her book in kind. She sat up from her laying position to look fully at her friend. Her legs tucked underneath herself as she began to reflect on the day.

“Well… It was…” Violet struggled with her words.

How to put that she’d rather jump from the window of her tower than marry the man she was supposed to marry?

“It was degrading,” she finally said. There was no lying to the person who knew exactly how she felt. “I felt like I was only there to be looked at… to be marked ‘suitable’ while I made an absolute fool out of myself. Oh- and- neither of your brothers helped my situation, by the way.”

Violet stood from her couch, her expression suddenly bitter. Her arms wrapped themselves around her waist. Turning, the young woman silently walked towards the large window in the corner.

Much like all the windows that were meant to be looked out of, it had a bench with cushions. She did not sit, though. She stared at the glass, refusing to look beyond it. Her arms tightened around her waist while Techno observed her in his stillness.

“It’s not fair,” Violet said, quietly. Her voice cracked.

The middle prince could not comfort her. He didn’t know how. In all of his twenty-two years, he had never learned how to handle the grief of others. Most of the time, he felt their sadness was unnecessary, but this time…

He understood.

Techno could only see her side-profile, but the tears that slid down her face were apparent. He looked away, wanting to give her privacy. He focused on his sharpened nails. They grew that way naturally and sometimes he liked to paint them.

They were bare at the moment, but he had the sudden desire to coat them in red.

The two stayed like that for a long time. Him, finding new ways to push back the voices that screamed murder, and she, finding the courage to look past the diamond panes that faced her. It was hard to view a world that was without mercy.

The lighting of the room changed slowly. It was the only indicator that time was actually passing. That, and the footsteps of someone coming to fetch the two for dinner.

**…**

The men waited in a small gathering room for the women to get ready for their grand meal. They had changed their own attire as well, but it did not take as long as the girls. Standing around, the King of Viris entertained the men who were gathered, with small tales of his youth.

“…My best mate was Fae, as well. He managed to pick me up before I could bleed to death and flew both of us home. Kristen was my fiancé, then, but Gods- she acted as though she were my mother. ‘Nearly grounded me once I gained enough consciousness to open my eyes.”

Phil was laughing at his story, as were most of the men who surrounded him. While King Alma had not arrived yet, his son had shown up and had an amused expression on his face, too.

The wrath of a woman was universal… and unmatched.

The King continued, “But I got better, obviously. We have a healer who’s a water-spirit. We’ll never be able to repay her enough for all the healing she’s done…”

“…Water-spirit? Gods- aren’t they hostile nowadays?”

The interruption came from Prince Clay. He was looking at Phil with curious eyes. He did not look to be judgmental; anyone could tell he was being genuine in his inquiry.

The Lords that belonged to King Phil looked to be as perplexed as he felt, but he noticed that the Lords of Drachlyn mirrored their future king’s expression. They must have had bad run-ins with water-spirits. This was the only explanation Phil could come up with.

Phil gave Wilbur (his only son who was present at the current moment) a look. The eldest prince was just as confused as he. He could tell his son wanted to say something, and Phil suddenly regretted ever bringing up their healer in the first place… especially since water-spirits were a touchy subject in the Watson family.

The King of Viris cleared his throat before answering the prince, “Uhm, not in our experience… your Highness. We employ all sorts of races and species and have never had a bad experience with a person _only_ because of their nature. Perhaps you’ve just had some unfortunate coincidences?”

“Perhaps…” Clay trailed off, looking as though he were in deep thought.

It was then that the doors opened, and their missing King had finally arrived. The Lords that belonged to the King of Drachlyn all bowed while the other Lords merely lowered their heads in respect.

Phil noticed the furious expression of his fellow king, immediately. He had a sudden strange feeling that something terribly revealing about this foreign king was about to occur.

“Your Highness… may I ask what the matter is?” This was spoken by the closest advisor Alma had. Clay, who stood next to him, looked to be concerned as well.

Alma was breathing heavily. It appeared as though he had just run up three flights of steps. His armor from that morning had been replaced by a dark blue doublet and fitting black trousers. In this outfit, he certainly looked less intimidating, but his scowl made up for his lack of metal.

It was almost half a minute later that the King had finally managed to calm himself. Everyone waited for his answer patiently. Well- almost everyone. Wilbur was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wanted to know what made a king so angry. It was his current passion in life.

“I have noticed that you employ all walks of life, here in your castle, King Phil.”

Phil blinked several times before processing what the other king had said.

“Erm… yes? What is the problem here?”

The tension in the room was growing. The lords on both sides were beginning to become antsy as both of their kings had a staring contest with one another. The guards from both kingdoms, each standing on their own appropriate wall, watched intently.

“I am no callous king who refuses work to those who need it but- are you aware you employ the offspring of _monsters_?”

Alma spoke his words calmly. His anger was gone, but his prejudice was clearly still there. For the first time since the King Alma had arrived there in that room, everyone finally noticed the servant he had apparently dragged with him.

The servant was a few feet behind, but nevertheless, he was clearly with the foreign king.

The boy, probably only a year older than Phil’s youngest, stood behind the king with his head down. His clothes were that of a common servant, the uniform belonging to the Viris staff.

He had been crying, that much was obvious. Something was held in his hands, and it looked to be tinted glasses. His tall and lanky body was hunched, and Phil could not help but pity the boy.

The King of Viris tried to come up with a logical explanation as to why another king would barge into a room with a crying kid behind him, but he came up with nothing. If Phil had to guess, he assumed the kid was a hard worker. Phil had certainly never received a complaint on him before, or he would have remembered his face.

An uncommon face, at that.

Alma filled the silence with an explanation since Phil could say nothing.

“He is a child of the night. A half-breed of human and a species so foul- I cannot believe he is here, under your roof.” Alma was grabbing the boy by his arm, tugging him closer for everyone to see.

“Look.”

And everyone did look. Half of the room gasped. The other half looked silently at the boy.

He was certainly tall, much taller than the average teenager, but Phil and Wilbur understood that this was not the issue. His skin was a mix of two colors and were symmetrically split in half: pure black on his left side and a pasty white on the right. His glowing eyes were perhaps the most haunting, but not unusual- at least not for the royals of Viris and their subjects.

Phil stepped closer to the boy, who stood almost a foot taller than he. He grimaced at the tears that leaked from the mixed-matched eyes of green and red and placed a hand on the poor boy’s arm.

“What is your name?” Phil asked him calmly and politely.

Alma and his party looked at the interaction with horror.

The boy refused to look him in the eyes. Phil understood why and did not press him. He only squeezed the young boy’s arm comfortingly, waiting for his answer.

“I don’t remember my religious name, your- your Highness.” He had a deep voice for someone so young. It reminded Phil of his middle child, making him gain even more sympathy towards the servant boy.

“What do your friends call you?” Wilbur asked gently from behind his father.

“Ranboo, your Highness. They call me Ranboo, and I’m terribly sorry if I’ve done something wrong, I don’t know what happened, you see, I have a terrible memory and I just…”

“…Ranboo,” Phil interrupted the rambling teen. The boy was in near-tears again. “Go down to the east-kitchens and tell the cook _Margaret_ to serve you one of the extra pies for tonight. She’s a nice lady, she’ll listen to you. Afterwards, you may have the rest of the evening off. I’ll make sure to tell the head of staff for you. Get some rest.”

Phil looked down at the glasses in the boy’s hands and squeezed his shoulder one last time before stepping away.

“And you may put the glasses on, if it bothers you.”

The boy was sighing in relief as he quickly put the tinted glasses on. They hid his mixed-matched eyes, and he was finally able to look his King in the eyes. He bowed his head graciously before stuttering out a “thank-you,” repeatedly. Phil had to lead the boy out of the room just to get him to stop talking. Wilbur watched his father whisper something to the boy, but he didn’t catch it.

The eldest prince was focused on the king that wasn’t his father.

Alma was looking bewildered. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Neither could the rest of his court, it seemed. The men next to him appeared just as offended. Clay, on the other hand, seemed interested. He was looking around with a slight smile on his face, but quickly hid it when his father looked to him for sanity.

When Phil came back to the group, he looked pissed. Wilbur had not seen his father as angry as he was, in a long time. The prince felt a thrill go up his spine. Perhaps the night would be more entertaining than he thought.

“Are you a racist, King Alma? A speciesist?”

The question was out-right asked by King Phil. He was a few feet away from the other king. The two were staring at each other, intensely. One was calm and collected while the other was searching for an answer to such a forward question.

“Of course not, how could you accuse me of such a claim?”

Phil nearly scoffed in the other king's face but held back. Yet, this did not stop him from investigating the situation at hand. He pointed towards the doorway that the young servant had just passed through.

“Your actions towards my staff have proven your prejudice. You made a hard-worker weep over something he has no control over.”

“He’s the child of an Enderman! He is a danger to…”

“…I have never had staff hurt myself, my family, or anyone else for that matter. Perhaps we’ve had a bit of a miscommunication. Are you only friendly towards humans? Because if so, we might have a problem here.”

The room was quiet once more. The king opposite of Phil straightened himself suddenly. Phil’s wings were magically hidden for easy mobile access, but they were clearly the Hoglin in the room. It was as if everyone could see them now: black, feathered, and menacing, as their owner stood proudly before this so-called ‘king.’

Alma found room to speak once he caught glimpse of his son. The boy’s pointed ears were a reminder to himself that he was, indeed, not racist.

“Of course not! Clay is Half-Elf, himself. His mother was the love of my life,” The father looked over to his mentioned son. The boy’s face was heated, but he was doing a rather good job at keeping a straight face. Clay looked at his father and nodded, as if he needed to confirm to everyone that this information was true. 

“I have no quarrels with Fae, Elves, or even magic-folk. But monsters of the night, the Nether scoundrels, the untamed element Spirits, all of their bastards… our kingdom has rules, concerning them.”

Suddenly, Wilbur’s expression darkened. Phil, knowing his son, had predicted that this would happen. He walked over to his eldest and laid a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Phil looked away from his Wilbur once he knew the boy wouldn't do anything brash.

He turned towards Alma and the foreign men; his brow furrowed. He pitied the way they looked so sure of what their King was saying. They were completely brain-washed.

“Why? Why be, so cruel?” Phil wanted to shout, but his words came out like a whisper.

Alma spoke without hesitance: “Our history is filled with chaos, murder, and lies. You must admit that until I came into power, you’d never even heard of Drachlyn.”

Phil could not help but nod mutely. It was true. Before King Alma, the lands that the Kingdom of Drachlyn currently held, was unknown territory to Phil. Twenty years prior, the rumor of a new powerful king had been circulating in Phil’s court. It seemed as though, for once, the rumors rang true. There was living proof of it, right in front of Phil's eyes.

 _It’s too bad that the powerful king turned out to be such a prick,_ Phil thought _._

Alma continued once he was satisfied with the other king’s epiphany.

“My rules are what have saved us. The evil nature of monsters and their bastards had plagued my kingdom until I stepped in. I took control, and now look at us.”

The men around Alma were nodding their head and humming their concurrence. Behind their eyes was nothing more than a fabricated story. But they could not see beyond it. They looked to their king and saw a hero. His son, who stood closest to him, had a proud look on his face as well.

Phil, again, had the urge to scream at them. How could they be so blind? If an entire group of people were lashing out, there had to be a reason _why_.

 _And the best solution they came up with was segregation? Possible genocide?_ Phil’s magic was waning from the sheer stupidity and injustice. His wings were getting harder and harder to hold back.

“Uhhh, is this a bad time?”

No one had seen the three figures enter the room until the tallest of them had spoken. Everyone whipped their heads towards the distraction. There, in the doorway, were the remaining princes.

Techno stood awkwardly with his nephew holding his hand and Tommy standing by his side. The boys had been dressed nicely for dinner and had stopped to retrieve Fundy from his nursery so that he could join them for dinner. It was unplanned, but they figured it wouldn’t cause too much trouble. Wilbur always enjoyed his son’s presence.

It was then that Techno and Tommy realized that it may have been a mistake.

The men that weren’t familiar were looking at Techno with eyes that he had seen too often. Being used to it, he just waved casually before giving his older brother and father a look from across the room. His silent look said, ‘ _Oh. They hate me. What’s new?_ ’

But what confused the prince the most was the weird looks his nephew was receiving. The young child seemed to have noticed it, too, along with Tommy. The blonde prince seemed to be the only one who wasn’t under extreme scrutiny at the moment. (Which didn’t happen often enough, in Tommy's opinion.)

Floris hid behind his two uncles before another look was spared his way. Usually, Techno believed in facing your fears head-on, but he didn’t blame the kid. These men were intimidating.

Phil was the first to speak. 

“King Alma, this is my son, Dave, whom you did not have the pleasure to meet this morning. And...” Phil spoke while walking over to his family. He crept quietly behind his two sons and swooped the young child behind them into his arms. He grunted as he lifted the boy onto his shoulders. “...this is Floris, my grandson. Say hello, little one.”

Floris was a shy child. He refused to talk with strangers on any normal day. He was confused as to why his grandfather thought he would even think about introducing himself. In place of a hello, Floris simply stared back at the strange men who looked at him weird.

“I was not aware that you had a grandson, King Phil. Pray, whose child is this?” King Alma looked between all of the princes in the room. He tried to keep his judgement to a minimum.

Tommy wanted to laugh. He was only sixteen, Floris five, and yet it seemed he was still thrown into the mix of princes who could have fathered his nephew. He calmed himself before letting out a controlled chuckle, which made Techno break into a grin besides him.

“He’s mine,” Wilbur finally said. He picked the young boy off of Phil’s shoulders and placed his son by his side. Floris held his father’s hand and hid into his side, shyly. His fuzzy ears were low, and his speckled face was pressed into his father's hip. Despite the fox ears, eyes, and long tail that followed the youngling wherever he went, he looked like a human child.

 _How unsettling_ , Alma thought.

The observing King then scrutinized the man in front of him, realizing that the king-to-be must have mated with a spirit of nature to have such a… child. He had not realized how unnatural this family was. The middle prince was a perfect example, but Alma could not dwell on 'Technoblade's' origins, or he might just burst into flames if the boy was truly what Alma thought he was: A Piglin bastard.

Alma then realized that his speech from earlier must have truly offended Wilbur and Phil. He had thought they were angry because of _Phil’s_ blood and heritage, not because of the half-breeds their family held. The King of Drachlyn had not known that such creatures existed in the Watson family. He had practically called them monsters…

…and while he still believed in his words, Alma would have to act as though he did not. The King of Dreams had hoped to make this King of Peace see his ways, but with a family like that, there was no way he’d be able to infiltrate King Phil’s mind on the matter. No, he’d have to reign in his thoughts concerning the races and species he thought were inferior to his own.

Suddenly pleasant, the King of Drachlyn smiled. “Well… King of Viris, I am truly sorry for any bad-blood that has come between us, tonight. Perhaps we can move on, and learn from one another? Who knows, maybe you’re right, Phil.”

Alma’s voice was a mixture of sorrow and pleading, but it was not genuine. Phil knew this, but he did not have it in him to question the other king. It was frustrating, not being able to say what he wanted, but for the sake of everyone in that room…

Phil nodded pleasantly and kept the peace.

After all, that was his job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a boring chapter. Eh, it needed to happen. 
> 
> Please leave Kudos if you haven't already! Comments are welcome.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An announcement is made, a plan is constructed, and a promise is disclosed. (And some flirty mischief.)

Plans for the next month were  dished out- as were the three courses of food that came and went during dinner. The Great Hall had been prepared specifically for this meal. The cavernous room that was once filled with hundreds of people that morning was filled with only five dozen that evening. 

The most important diplomatic Lords, as well as their wives and children, from both Phil’s and Alma’s courts, were sat enjoying themselves to desert when the announcements began. 

Chatter from both sides of the long table stopped as Lord Smith stood to relay the final plans for the next month. 

These plans were to be set in stone, and by the end of them “King Alma and my daughter, Lady Violet Smith, will have their wedding, here, in this very hall.”

This was news to  nearly everyone , except for the two kings and their closest advisors. 

Violet, who sat somewhere among the many lords and ladies of Drachlyn and Viris, felt her heart go cold. 

The words did not register at first. That is, until Tommy was whispering “you have  _ got _ to be fucking kidding me, why would father…” to her brother, as they sat next to each other. 

For the hundredth time that day, Toby was slipping a hand in hers, squeezing three times. He ignored his friend, who was still going off about how ludicrous it all was. If Violet had a voice, she would agree.

“For the rest of this week, we are letting our guests rest from their long journey. But next week,” Lord Smith spoke with  mirth , his eyes enthusiastic as he looked around “we shall have a jousting tournament, sparring contests, and all sorts of field-day entertainment.”

There was a crowd-full  murmur of excitement and a small round of applause followed. 

The Smith children who were present at the table sat numbly, and they were loyally mirrored by their friends. Wilbur who sat across from Tommy, looked over to Violet with sad eyes. She met them, before quickly looking away, afraid of tearing up and ruining her put-together act. 

Her jaw clenched tightly; black painted nails dug into the blue evening gown she wore. 

Violet would  _ not _ let them see her break.

She would not let them win.

**…**

“Lady Violet?”

The girl with the raven hair turned abruptly. She knew that voice anywhere.

Her family, who had been walking with her to return to their apartments for the night, stopped what they were doing as well. The other three, realizing who it was, bowed their heads in respect. Violet knew her father was reluctant to do so, and it was interesting (if not pleasing) to see him bend at the will of someone he disliked very much.

Techno stood in front of the family, still in his dinner garb, uncomfortably muttering something that sounded like, “Please don’t do that,” but it was too late. Violet had curtsied as well, knowing her father would give her a warning look if she  didn’t .  Although, the annoyed look she received from the prince was worth it.

“May I ask what my prince needs Lady Violet for?” Gerard spoke respectfully. Despite his dislike for Piglins, Techno was still his prince. 

Techno straightened his height, as if he just remembered he were royalty. He spoke louder than usual, to say “Your king,  _ my father, _ would like a word with Violet. I shall return her to you  _ myself _ , once he’s finished.” 

The prince in front of her had a slight grin, and Violet had to turn and look at her father to understand why. Gerard had a displeased look, and it  wasn’t because the King requested to speak with her. 

She could tell his irritation was occurring from the thought that the middle-prince would be alone with her.

Violet wanted to laugh at his ridiculousness. She settled for a disbelieving scoff. She had been alone with Wilbur and Tommy plenty of times and her father had never had a problem with it. Was her father’s hatred towards Nether creatures the cause of his hesitancy? Or was it just plain bigotry?

_ Gods,  _ _ he’d _ _ have a heart-attack if he knew about the library corner, then. _

_ “ _ I’ll be in my rooms soon, father. Goodnight,” Violet did not wait for the permission from her father.  After all, a king’s word was far more important than a lord's .

She grabbed the arm of her friend when she reached him, despite Techno not holding it out for her. 

The middle prince sometimes forgot about the proper way of things... But he also  did not agree with the idea that women needed to be paraded around on the arms of men. 

Violet could walk  just fine , and he planned to let her go once they turned the corner. 

But once he did, Techno had the sudden urge to tug her back to his side.

The middle prince shook off the foreign feeling,  _at once_ . He felt embarrassed from the random desire and felt a wave of guilt hit him for no obvious reason. The ridiculous onslaught of emotions made him feel like he was over-reacting. 

She was  _ Violet _ , his dearest friend outside of family, not some random girl. If anything, it was normal to feel a pull towards the person he grew up with, but it  didn’t stop him from scolding himself relentlessly.

_This is the first time you've come in contact with a girl in weeks, and you're acting like the pig you are._

He didn't try and defend himself from his thoughts. It was no use, he would only guilt himself further. He had too many failed experiences.

Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, the price shifted himself a few steps away from the young woman next to him. Techno continued down the path to his family’s apartments after deeming the distance between the appropriate. 

The two young adults both walked in awkward silence until Violet, seemingly oblivious, asked him a question.

“What does your father need me for?” 

Techno almost let out a sigh of relief. So she _hadn't_ noticed his weird behavior. Good.

“Oh, uh, I think he wanted to talk to you about the… wedding arrangements.”

“Oh…” The disappointment was at the forefront of Violet’s voice.

Technoblade actually had no clue why his father needed to speak to Violet, but his lie seemed plausible. Phil had been rather accommodating towards the foreign king, so far. The prince wouldn’t be surprised if his father ended up planning the wedding himself. While Techno understood _why_ his father had to be an agreeable and peaceful king- he didn’t understand why it had to be such a convincing act.

The two walked the rest of the way in another bubble of silence.

... 

The royal family was all gathered in their family room when the middle-prince and the young lady next to him entered the fire-lit room. Floris was still up; he sat on the floor by the fireplace, playing with wooden figurines that Tommy had carved specifically for young Fundy. His father sat next to him, the glow of the fire making him look soft as he whispered imaginative stories to his son. 

The King and Queen sat on one of the cushioned sofas nearest to the door that Violet and their middle son entered from. Tommy, who was in the middle of practicing his piano-playing, stopped his scales as soon as the two presented themselves. The silence signaled their arrival and the whole family’s attention was now on Violet. 

The young woman smiled at the family who had practically raised her. The atmosphere was different than the usual happy feel that the royals gave off, but the clear familiarity between them all was still there. 

Both the King and Queen gave Violet smiles that warmed her spirits, and Floris had gotten up from his spot to hug her tightly .  Wilbur got off the floor as well, and sat next to Tommy on one of the other sofas. The two brothers passed a look between themselves once they assessed the situation. After the announcement they had all received that night, all of the princes were hoping that Violet was summoned for rebellious discussion, _only_.

Their other brother still stood next to Violet, his arms crossed over his lean torso. He almost looked to be scolding his parents.

“I brought  _ Lady _ Violet,”  Technoblade said this in an obvious manner, one of his arms extending towards the girl next to him as if she only just now became visible. Once he had presented Violet to his parents, he abruptly walked away to a nearby seat closest the fire. Slumped in his chair, the prince refused to look away from the flames, his mind else where . 

Phil frowned at his middle-child’s behavior, but quickly focused on the person at-hand. Violet continued to stand, her posture straight and confident, but as her eyes met his, the king could not help but feel for the girl. She was exhausted. 

The day had taken a great toll… and the king found himself half-relating to Violet.

“I’m sure you are tired, after such a long day, Lady Violet.”

It  wasn’t a question, but the girl still bowed her head in agreement. She let out a sigh, the stress Violet dealt with  showcasing itself in her breath. Her hands shook, then. Next, her throat suddenly became  rather tight . 

She was unraveling.

Kristen, who had known the girl since she was a toddler, knew the tale-tell signs of a breakdown before they happened. It was so predictable, that when the girl began to tear up, the queen was not even half as surprised as her husband when it happened. The queen was prepared for this, and extended her arms out to the child, because that was _certainly_ who Violet was to her. 

The young woman collapsed at Kristen’s feet, letting the older woman caress her dark  tresses as she wept in the skirts of the queen. 

She was not loud. Violet spilled silent tears as the only  _ real _ mother-figure in her life fixed her breaking heart. Embarrassment heated her cheeks, but it was easy to forgive herself when the soft ‘It’s okay’ and ‘It’s  alright ’ fanned across her ears.

Phil was relieved that his wife was there. He was used to Floris crying, but the boy was a child who cried over spilt milk, and… this was a young-woman who was clearly hurt over the actions of men. 

This is where Phil stopped being able to relate to Violet, and never  _ would  _ be able to. He was a man; a king. Nobody dictated over his life. Not since his father had died.

But even then, his father had not forced him to marry a stranger. __

Floris, who now stood next to his father, watched in confusion as his beloved Violet shook from suppressed sobs. Tommy watched alongside Wilbur, the two silently  observing . The young blonde had tears of his own rapidly approaching, but he quickly distracted himself to combat the sudden emotional attack. 

The eldest prince watched Tommy and Floris from the side, sadly. Wilbur knew they were unused to terrible things happening to the people who clearly did not deserve it. He was watching the youngest of the family become exposed to the unfair ways of the world. It needed to happen eventually, but he could not help but to wish he could extend a pardon for their innocence, just a little while longer.

“Violet, look at me,” Kristen was speaking as a mother would to a daughter. She had a small smile on her face, but only for encouragement. “We are going to do everything in our power to help you, but I need you to listen, child.”

Her fingers lifted the chin of the young woman in front of her. Violet’s face was red and  blotchy . There to replace her usual beauty, was grief. 

The queen  smoothed the hairs that escaped the girl’s pin-up braids before speaking once more.

“Phil and I have been searching for lawmen. We have hopes that we can find a peaceful solution to break your bonds with King Alma… a few have been exceptionally enthusiastic about the matter,” Kristen spoke with a smile that warmed the hearts of everyone in the room. She wiped away the flowing tears off the face of the girl in front of her. “It seems promising.” 

In the queen’s eyes, there was so much hope. But as Violet trailed her swollen eyes to her king, she found a subdued version. 

It was still there, the hope, but much less of it. 

Phil eventually gave Violet a hesitant nod, confirming everything his wife had spoken into the room. The last thing he wanted was to give false hope to this girl, as well as his sons. But as he caught the proud stare of Tommy, he could not help but feel like he did the right thing.

The king cleared his throat, calling the attention of everyone in the room. Even Techno looked away from the fire to watch his father speak, “I do not pretend that this will solve  all of our problems concerning King Alma, but… It can certainly be a start. 

“There is a man who has gained popularity between the kingdoms as a law-breaker, of sorts.  He’s risen to fame by granting our faraway friends of the Badlands their _own_ kingdom, despite their… difficult circumstances. Not to mention, King Eret of Lorne has  great things to say on his work- if not his character. He is…

“...Promising, as my wife says. I’ve sent a raven for him, I’m expecting his answer by tomorrow. This delay is why I suggested the wedding take place here, in Viris, so that you would not have to leave so soon, Violet.”

The room was quiet, soaking in the king’s words. 

The four princes each had their own feelings about the situation, but only Technoblade appeared to be critical of this brought-up man’s abilities. Surely there was nothing that a lawman could do against a king, was there? The only thing that would end a king’s aspirations was his own choice, or death. 

Techno had a feeling that King Alma would rather die than give up the opportunity to marry Violet. 

And he could not condemn him for  _ that _ .

Violet, who had been staring at the king and queen teary-eyed the entire time, could not believe it. They were going as far as to hire an expert to get her out of the sticky situation her father had planted her in. She was not even capable of giving a word of thanks. It felt as though anything that Violet could say would turn up to be meaningless compared to how she felt.

With a kind smile, the queen wiped Violet’s cheek one last time. She knew exactly how the girl felt. No thanks  were needed.

“Dave, darling, will you escort Violet back to her family’s apartments? She should need to be well-rested for tomorrow. Another day awaits.” 

Techno scowled at his religious name but stood to follow his mother’s order, anyways. He took small steps to give Violet time to stand from the ground, but after the look his mother gave him, he rolled his eyes before helping her off the floor himself. His hand grabbed her own, and he pulled gently on her arm to help her stand. 

Violet was light-headed. Her  drowsy state imbalanced her footing once she stood, causing her to crash into the middle-prince’s side. Technoblade stiffened, but held her steady as she regained her balance. His hands were sure to stay clear of her waist, and so he settled for her shoulders. Once he was sure she would not fall, he took a step away from her, his hands falling numbly to his sides. 

To the right of him, Techno could sense his brother smiling. 

Wilbur hid the grin underneath a hand as he ‘coughed’ under the stare of his younger brother. Techno, in warrior fashion, had an anticipated urge to declare a duel between himself and his meddlesome bastard-of-a-brother, but he soon remembered the promise that he made to his mother. 

With another aggravated eye-roll, the prince escorted Violet out of the room once she had said her goodbyes to Floris. The youngest prince had been very worried for her, but Violet assured the child that all was well. 

_ Everything would be  _ _ alright _ _ , now. _

The two walked in their usual silence once the door shut behind them. Without speaking, they both walked in union.

At some point during the small family meeting, Techno had shirked off his dinner jacket and now walked in his white long-sleeved tunic. His collar was loosely threaded by a thin piece of leather in the front, his tan chest being partially exposed to the cool air around them. Violet would have wondered if he were cold if she did not know that he ran hot. His skin burned no matter the temperature. 

She had done a rather  good job at acting as if she had _not_ noticed all the  times he had touched her that night, but she  _ had _ noticed. His touches were hard to miss. 

Meanwhile, Violet felt like the hallways had gathered a layer of ice. It  _ could _ be the fact that she had just gone through dozens of emotions in one setting, but the nighttime in Viris was known for being extra chilly. The thought of her fire-lit room was suddenly very appealing. 

The walk to the Smiths apartments did not take  very long . Once the prince reached the main door to her family’s quarters, he bowed dutifully to Lady Violet before excusing himself. Techno had done his job, and he was quick to leave his friend’s side. 

He needed to get away… He needed to clear his head, for reasons he  wasn’t even sure of.

“Techno?”

The middle-prince wanted to sigh in frustration for the millionth time in the past hour, but nevertheless, he continued to surrender to the request of the second woman in his life that night. He twirled himself around, placing himself six feet away from Violet as he stared down at her.

“Hm?” He thought to keep it simple. Maybe if he  feigned disinterest, she would leave him alone.

“Do you think I ought to fuck a pig over King Alma? Perhaps he wouldn’t want me if I did.”

She was back. 

The  passive Violet that Techno had  witnessed for the entirety of the day had diminished, and his old friend had returned. He almost laughed at the sudden vulgarity, but he settled with a wide smile,  so as to not disturb any sleeping entities. 

Techno’s teeth bore themselves, just like they had that day in the field. The memory of the day made Violet echo her friend’s expression- minus the sharp canines. She remembered the teasing look the prince had passed Violet during her inquiry, and she remembered how much it made her blush. 

But now, she wondered if  perhaps she could reverse their roles. It would certainly put another smile on her face. Gods knew she needed more of those.

“I wonder… do half-Piglin’s count?”

If Violet could draw, she would sketch the prince’s face as it was, after her statement. She had never seen him shocked into silence; he had words to every occasion. If needed be, Technoblade never  failed to make a comment, but he was utterly struck mute as he stared wide-eyed at his friend of eighteen-plus years.

Violet almost let out several strings of laughter, but the door behind her  _ whooshed _ open before a single  cackle could pass her lips.

“Room. Now.”

It was her father. 

Gerard Smith seemed displeased with his eldest daughter, but Violet could not analyze his expression enough before being aggressively pulled into their quarters. She yanked her hurting arm away from her father with a gasp. Her eyes snapped towards her father, who was breathing heavily and looking down on his daughter with an unfamiliar fury that neither of the two were used to. 

Violet was shocked  almost as much as Gerard was: he had never man-handled her like that before.

_ Had he heard…? _

Violet threw the thought away. The door was door too thick, surely. Besides, he  would’ve had to have shown up for her exact moment of arrival, which was unlikely. 

Unless, he had been waiting by the door ever since she had left his side an hour ago… but that was a reach. 

Her father may be controlling, but he  wasn’t obsessively so.

“My prince, may I have a word…” Lord Smith’s clipped words trailed off once he looked away from his daughter.

Technoblade was gone. He had turned and left the moment Gerard had appeared. 

Violet felt a slight pinch of guilt. Something in her gut told her that it was cruel to tease about such things , but she  couldn’t explain why. All she knew was that it  didn’t feel good of him to leave her without so much as a goodnight. 

The door her father held open, closed shut. The dark spacious hallway the two stood in was quiet, and no other soul seemed to be around. 

With her father still turned around, Violet guessed that this was her opportune moment to escape before Gerard had anything to say about her behavior. She had quietly tip-toed halfway through the hallway before she heard her name being called. 

The young woman froze. Her father’s voice was eerily calm (he had  a great talent to suppress his most inner fury when it came to his daughter, he had had a lot of practice to do so) and Violet had no other choice but to obey his calling. She turned around slowly, locking eyes with Gerard. 

“I want you to be careful,” Gerard said. Before Violet could make a noise, a face, a thought; her father elaborated. “There are reasons I have promised you to a king. Reasons that I won’t have you messing around with.”

His daughter, the girl that Gerard had watched grow from infant to woman in all of nineteen years, was looking across the hall at him with hatred in her eyes. It nearly took him aback. He had not seen that look since his first wife was alive, and Violet had seemed to perfect it.

“ _ Fuck _ your reasons,” Violet spit her words at him. Her left hand came up to wipe her mouth while her right pointed an accusing finger towards Gerard. 

She had never cursed in front of him, before. Ladies were not allowed. 

And yet, he looked unfazed as the flames in her eyes grew.

“I have accepted my fate, father, but what I will  _ not _ be doing, is making sense of it. I do not care about  _ why _ you have promised me to a king. I only care that you chose the worst of them all.” 

And it was true. There were plenty of  bachelor kings in the continent. While there were rumors about King Eret’s many lovers, he was a perfect gentleman and had a kind soul. His very kingdom,  _ Lorne _ , was named after the God of Love. 

To make it worse, the Badlands had  _ four _ eligible kings, their power equally divided so that corruption was impossible. Each had their quirks, but nothing too terrible. King Phil  seemed to like them, at least.

How had her father managed to find the  _ one _ king who outweighed the evil of all the mentioned kings, combined?

Gerard rolled his eyes before sighing, “You’re being over-dramatic, Vi, I \- “

“-Do  _ not _ call me that.  _ You are not my friend.” _

Within four strides, Gerard was directly in front of his daughter, clutching her raised wrist firmly in his hand. The girl almost screamed at the sudden intrusion.

Violet tried to yank herself away, but to no avail. She had the desire to spit directly in his reddened face, but feared the consequences. The man was losing his patience, and the young woman stopped struggling once she noticed the anger that was radiating  off of him. 

Violet could do nothing more than stare up into the face of the monster she once called father.

“I may not be your friend, but I  _ am _ your father, and you will do well to remember that. You will marry King Alma. You will bear his children. And in the end, you will thank me for keeping your mother’s promise.”

Gerard Smith left it at that.

When she heard the door to her father’s bedroom shut, Violet only then realized his absence. He had left quickly, before he regretted anything else to come out of his mouth. 

Violet’s eyes fluttered as she tried to  comprehend the words last said to her: a mother’s promise. 

_ Her _ mother.

It stung, knowing her father said it to make her obey. But it stung deeper once she understood what it meant. 

Somehow, marrying her to Alma would fulfill a promise between Gerard Smith and his late wife. That must have been why her father was so adamant… why he was so desperate to get rid of her. 

He just wanted to finish a promise he had made, eighteen years ago. Once he did that... He could rid himself of the memory of Violet's mother, forever. She truly was nothing more than a product of pain-

Violet was nothing more than a price to be paid, and that hurt worse than being sold to a stranger for nothing more than political gain.

…

Violet eventually made it up to her room after a stagnant half-hour in the front hallway. 

She had stood numbly in her family’s apartment entrance for quite some time. The chill of the night had settled deep into her bones, and when the shivers that wracked her body were hard to ignore, Violet climbed the stairs to her tower.

Her  maid had been waiting for her .  Violet had apologized profusely for keeping her awake, but it  didn’t seem to matter. 

The older woman was unusually less gentle with her lady’s dark  tresses when she unraveled the masterpiece she had conducted from earlier. To make it worse, her usual lively chatter had been absorbed into silence. 

When Violet was  helped out of her dress, she made peace with the thought that her  maid would forgive her in the morning… hopefully. It was the only comfort that stopped her from bursting into tears for the third time that day.

“Goodnight,  milady .” 

The farewell was curt, but Violet accepted it without hard feelings. She watched her personal  maid of  almost three years exit without another glance in her lady’s direction. 

Now, Violet was truly alone. 

_Unless…_

Grabbing a small throw blanket, Violet wrapped her torso in the warm material. She walked to her sitting window and peered outwards. To her delight, in Tommy’s dark window there were new trinkets. It gave her a swell of happiness to see them, even if she  couldn’t make out what they were from her distance.

Her eyes then trailed to Wilbur’s, but as per-usual, the drapes were drawn and there was nothing to see.

And lastly, Violet trailed her hopeful eyes to the window that belonged to the only person who had been giving her solace. 

But she was met with a wave of disappointment to find his room dark as well. 

But it was fine! Because just like the night before, he would eventually turn up. 

Just in case she  was to miss his appearance, she hurried to grab her new poetry book and settled into her seat all in the span of ten ticks from the old red-stone clock in the corner of her room. She waited patiently, then.

_ Perhaps this _ _ is when Techno sleeps before a long nights-worth of reading. The man  _ _ has _ _ to sleep at some point. _

And so, she  read until the moon had fully set in the sky and the stars were shining their brightest. The fire-lit room that she sat in was warm, but the glass of the window was cool. She was glad she had a blanket to wrap around herself.

And like clock-work, despite the terrible feeling Violet had, he showed up.

It was much later than usual, but he was there, in his window. He wore what he always did, almost identical to what he had been wearing in the hallway earlier (his trousers were looser, it seemed), and his pretty hair was pulled up like always. A large book was propped on a knee, and he began to read to himself after rearranging the drapes. 

The scene of a dozen  nights was complete.

As Violet peered across at her unaware friend, she  couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that she relied heavily on this routine. He never managed to disappoint.

But putting that thought to the back of her mind (because he would tell her if he actually knew), the young woman yawned heavily and laid her head on the cold glass that held the scene before her. She had never watched him two nights in a row, but she convinced herself that it was normal. 

After all, that’s what friends  _ did _ . They relied on each other. 

Watching Techno, Violet forgot everything her father had said. She could deal with all of that in the morning. It  wasn’t like the she had any choice in the matter, anyway. Time moved itself for no one; the next month would  supply enough proof for the claim.

Watching through the diamond-paned glass that framed her prince  rather nicely , Violet drifted off to sleep with a sense of  naive ty that only the young can produce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentioned Gods-Index:
> 
> Viris- Goddess of Peace and Loyalty  
> Drachlyn- God of Dreams  
> Lorne- God of Love and Neutrality


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Techno perspective at the beginning. Also, Toby has a secret.

It was the fifth night in a row that Violet had slept on her window bench. 

An exhausted sigh passed through Technoblade’s hands as he rubbed the tired from his eyes. It was finally dawn, meaning he could sleep. Closing his book shut, he turned to look across the distance between his and Violet’s window and laughed softly to himself. 

She was wrapped heavily in a thick blanket; her face pressed against the glass. From where he sat, she looked an interesting sight, but he knew how the week had treated her. Her exhaustion was certainly justifiable. 

Techno had recently been watching her from a distance, and not just through windows.

He kept to himself more than usual, but his brothers were the only people who had noticed. Everyone else thought he was just being the ‘rebellious and outcast’ prince, but in reality, he was just sorting things out. 

(And avoiding the foreign king and his subjects. He had heard a rumor about their fascination with his fighting skills, and the last thing he wanted to do was be put on display for everyone to watch and coo over. He had had enough in his own kingdom.) 

And so, the prince spent most of time in his library corner and in his rooms. He was lucky, compared to his friend. 

Violet, who was being forced to take daily walks with her betrothed as well as having tea-time with his court, did not have much time to herself. Techno could tell just from the way she walked that she was mentally and emotionally drained, but she always ended up biting her lip and would continue with her day. 

After reading the acceptance letter that the lawman had written to the King and Queen of Viris, Violet had become resilient; she had hope that she would be set free, and she was sure of it. 

Techno was less convinced, but he kept his thoughts to himself. If having false hope was the only thing keeping Violet afloat, then he would forfeit his opinion. He would always be at his window bench for her comfort, if needed be. 

But now, it was time for him to sleep. 

Technoblade slid off his seat, cracking and stretching his aching body as he walked over to his bed. The warm glow of the morning sun was casted onto parts of the bed that the prince jumped onto. Unbothered, he did not take off his usual clothing that he shed and instead dozed on-top of his covers after throwing his glasses somewhere on the bookshelf next to him. 

Yes, surely, he would be able to get a few hours of sleep in… 

“Brother?” 

…perhaps not. 

Techno let out a quiet groan into his pillow that only he could hear.

He had not heard his door open. Maybe he was starting to lose his hearing from his lack of sleep. 

He pushed himself off his stomach before finding his younger brother at the foot of his bed. The blonde was nervously standing in his training gear, but his bedhead was still there. He appeared to be holding the sword Techno had gotten him for his birthday. 

“Yes, Tommy?” Techno yawned. 

Tommy shifted on his feet, looking at the sword in his hands. 

“I know it's early, but… well, I was wondering if you could train me this morning.” 

The two brothers looked at each other as the seconds passed, one slightly annoyed and the other terribly hopeful. Techno could not fathom why Tommy needed training so early in the morning, and Tommy could not understand why his brother was sleeping on top of his covers. His hair wasn’t even tangled… 

“What’s wrong with our afternoon training that is scheduled for tomorrow?” Techno finally asked. “I mean… is this morning _so_ important?” 

Tommy stopped analyzing why his brother looked as though he had not slept all night and snapped his attention to his brother's words. 

The young prince stuttered before controlling himself, “We can still train tomorrow, but I like training alone with you, when nobody’s around. The others tend to… make fun.” 

Ah. So that was why he had woken up so early. 

Sighing, Technoblade wiped the tired from his eyes while muttering, “Let me get dressed… go set up in the south training center.” 

The middle-prince knew all too well the cruelty of peers when you happened to fall short. That is why he had become the best at what he did. You cannot fault someone when they’re undeniably perfect at the craft. 

Even so, he had a feeling he would regret not getting an ounce of sleep in. 

But Techno felt it would be worth-while when his younger brother grinned excitedly and proudly at him from across the room. The boy was gone after a quick, “You. Are. The. Best!” 

Technoblade grunted back, begrudgingly. 

At least he would get to beat Tommy’s ass in sword-fighting. That was sure to lift his spirits. 

**…**

“No, you’re using brute force when you stand like that. Look- you’re already weak after three swipes.” 

“Sometimes jabbing is better. You do not _always_ have to swing.” 

“Do you feel like that little trick you just pulled would help you in battle? _Huh_? Think _really_ _hard_ , before you answer.” 

“Seriously, Tommy. Are you even listening?” 

Techno and Tommy had been training for under two hours at that point. The two brothers were layered in a thin layer of sweat, the sheen of their hard work glistened underneath the morning sun. While blood had not been drawn amongst them, Tommy’s was boiling underneath his skin. 

He _was_ listening. He just could not figure out how to follow all the rules that had been thrown at him. He was only sixteen, barely a man. 

Tommy yelped when another jab was directed at his left ribs. It only scraped him (Techno knew his strength and would not use it against someone so weak), but the young prince could feel the welp from the wooden sword blister almost immediately after it left his side. He cursed the day he ever agreed to not wear leather armor at his brother’s request. Techno liked to be 'light on his feet' (whatever _that_ meant) but Tommy was pretty sure it was just a way to make it easier for his brother to stab him.

“Okay, Tommy, Tommy, look at me, hey-” Techno easily dodged a swing at his head. “I get it, you’re mad. Let’s take a break, hm?” 

Tommy, out of breath from his random attack, glared darkly at his older brother. 

He did not _want_ to take a break. He wanted to “fuckin’ kill you, you fuckin- “ 

“Tommy, control yourself. The first lesson to being a good swordsman is to never lose your temper and…” The pink-haired prince laughed to himself at the way things were going. His dark eyes shined with mirth as he continued: “…well, you’re not doing a very good job at it.” 

The two would have kept arguing if it were not for the fact that they were interrupted by a lingering personage near the entrance of the training grounds. Tommy had spotted him first, his anger swiftly dying. 

When he was not met with a string of insults, Techno turned to see what his brother was looking at. Narrowing his eyes, he found the heir to Drachlyn’s throne staring at the brothers from afar. 

Clay had a smirk on his face, and it was obvious he had heard everything that the two brothers had spoken about. His tall and toned body was clad in training gear, much more than either Viris prince had on, and he was leaned casually against a wooden beam next to the weaponry building. 

While Techno was aware the prince was surrounded by dozens of swords and knives, he was not in the least impressed by the freckled sun-tanned boy-toy. He had heard of the skills that Prince Clay possessed, but he did not really care to see if the rumors were true. 

They had been introduced to each other only once (hardly any words were exchanged between the opposite princes), and while one had seemed interested in being friends, the other was adamant to ignore the obvious attempts at camaraderie all night. The second Prince of Viris had no desire to become close with the person who would end up taking Violet away. 

“Mind if I join?” The Prince of Dreams asked while walking towards the pair of brothers. “I’m sure all of us could learn a thing or…” 

“…Not interested.” 

Clay had a look of surprisal on his face when the great warrior Technoblade turned to leave without an explanation. He was not used to refusal, but he also had not ever been around other royalty other than his sister (who had been left in Drachlyn). It made sense as to _why_ his closest friends always agreed when he asked to spar with them but… still, it almost hurt to know that someone he admired (even if that person _were_ half-Piglin, which made Clay squirm) would not even try to look past their differences. 

Gathering up his courage, Clay called after the retreating prince. 

“Are you worried I’ll take your title as the ‘best-known fighter,’ in all the kingdoms?” The talking prince smiled boyishly as his adversary’s body stopped dead in its tracks. “I’ll take it easy on you. I’m sure you’ve worked hard on your reputation.” 

Tommy, who was watching the whole thing with a sense of curiosity, wanted to shout at this foreign prince to keep his mouth shut. 

Clay did not know, but he was remarkably close to being on a secret hit-list Tommy was sure his brother kept around. He did not think all those bullies from Techno’s childhood suddenly stopped because they _liked_ him- no, there were old rumors of secret nighttime duels that did _not_ end well for the opponents of ‘The Blade.’ 

As far as Tommy knew, his brother did not have to take part in such activities anymore, but if the bitch in front of him kept talking… He was not sure what would happen. 

Techno had turned his head and body enough to look straight at Clay, and while he looked unbothered, there was a bubbling layer of loathing that was simmering in his gut. He had learned to not let certain things bother him, especially smack-talk, but for some reason, he could not stop the next words come out of his mouth. 

“I won’t fight with you because it will be a waste of _my_ time. Besides, your racist and tyrant father would have my head if he found out that _I_ , the scum of _all_ half-breeds, displaced a single precious hair on your body.” 

Techno relished in the way that the prince opposite of him tried to produce something to say back but ended up failing to do so. He did not often like to put himself down to prove a point, but watching the spoiled boy in front of him have a war with himself was rewarding. 

“Your training session is over, Tommy.” 

And with that, Technoblade left two blonde princes behind and walked away without another word. 

… 

After an elaborate lunch that was prepared for both the royal families as well as the Smiths, Violet quickly excused herself from further company of her betrothed. He agreed graciously, but not before complimenting her loveliness, to which the two attending Viris princes rolled their eyes discreetly at. 

For the past week, King Alma had been overly-kind to everyone, and it was starting to piss off those who could see past his act. Lord Smith, on the other hand, appeared to be growing increasingly relieved by the day knowing he was not selling his daughter to a complete ass. 

Although Violet felt like she should have felt touched at his concern, she could not find the gratitude inside herself to thank him for at least caring. That was supposed to be the easiest part about being a father. 

Escaping the room filled with fake smiles, Violet was chauffeured by Wilbur, who happily accepted the excuse to leave the luncheon early. Within seconds, they were followed out into the hallway by Tommy, who had managed to leave without anyone really noticing. 

“Gods, I feel bad for mom and dad,” Wilbur said once they were halfway to Violet’s apartment. “How agonizing it must be, to be _so_ diplomatic _and_ childish at the same time. You just _know_ father had wanted to laugh when King Alma splattered that fish sauce all over himself, and I could just _see_ mother give us a longing stare as we exited that awful scene.” 

The three laughed to themselves, but each had an underlying moment of sympathy once the giggles died down. They all understood the price for royalty just fine, but to be king and queen seemed unfamiliar and tiresome. 

Wilbur was not sure if he would ever be ready for the responsibility. 

“Do you reckon I’ll ever find a woman who doesn’t _want_ the title of queen out of greediness but would take on the responsibility if I asked it of her?” 

When Violet looked to the prince on her arm, she saw his eyes were distant. She quietly laughed to herself from his dramatic soliloquy but then sobered when she wondered how much the idea was weighing on him. Surely, he would not be king for quite some time (enough time to get himself a good and loving spouse) but staring further at Wilbur made Violet see that his fear of forever loneliness was beginning to show. 

Squeezing his arm comfortingly, Violet rested her head on Wilbur’s arm as they reached her rooms, “No matter what, Will, you’ll never be without friends. Devoted friends. Few future kings can say that.” 

Will was brought out of his stump and he gave Violet a cheeky smile and a: “Thank you, Violet. You shall always have a friend in me, as well, and few women can say that they're friends with a future king,” before disposing her at the door with a wink. 

Tommy did not follow his brother down the hall and instead followed Violet into her family’s apartment. 

Together, they walked down the corridor to Toby’s room and opened the door to find her brother still in bed from that morning. His head had been pounding and he had woken with a slight fever. Their father had thought it was best to keep him away from people and allowed him to stay in his room for the day. 

When the two entered, Toby’s tired eyes lit up with excitement. He had been asleep all morning to dream the headache away, but he was dismayed to find that the twinge was still there when Tommy jumped onto the foot of his bed. Despite his pain, both boys echoed each other with laughter. They were happy to be reunited after a long half-day apart. 

Violet watched the two with envious eyes but supported her look with a soft smile. She had never had a best-friend as close as Toby and Tommy were to each other- she supposed Wilbur and Techno were close enough to being her best-friends- but not _this_ close. 

They were platonic soulmates, through-and-through. 

After a few minutes of small talk, Violet was asked to read aloud a chapter from a book she had gotten Toby for his sixteenth birthday. He had not yet read it, and Violet felt like an idiot when she realized why- her brother had never been a good reader or writer, he got his lettering all mixed up and got frustrated when trying to read. 

And so, Violet happily agreed to read a chapter for her brother and his friend. 

The two boys got comfortable as she voiced imagery to them about a young girl who wished her baby brother away to a handsome Goblin King. Being a poetry reader herself, Violet was intrigued by the fictional story and made a mental note to thank Niki for the suggestion. 

By the time she finished the first chapter, Toby was beginning to get sleepy again and Tommy yawned his third time. Violet was not offended in the slightest and suggested that the two boys take a short nap. By the time Tommy agreed, his friend had already passed out. 

Violet slipped the book into her skirts before quietly tiptoeing towards the exit. She would save the story for the late night she was sure to have; they had been occurring more often, ever since her wedding day was announced. 

Grabbing the door handle, the young girl opened the door before glancing at her brother one last time. He looked peaceful, and Tommy looked ghastly with his eyes closed and mouth open, but she reckoned that the prince also looked relaxed. She smiled sweetly at the two, they were truly- 

The smile on Violet’s face was wiped clean when she spotted the trash din next to the door. 

Underneath wads of paper, in a terrible attempt to be hidden, was a clear vile filled with a dark liquid. 

Now, Violet was usually one to give others their privacy, but… 

Closing the door lightly and bending over, the young woman quietly rummaged through the trash din to pick up the unfamiliar container. The vile was sealed, and it was clear no one had opened it since being filled with the black substance inside. 

Violet pulled the cork from the entrance of the small bottle with a soft _pop_ and swished the liquid underneath her nose. The effect of the whiff was immediate. She knew exactly what the strange mixture was because she consumed it every morning. 

It was their daily medicine, at least a week’s worth. 

Glancing over at her slumbering brother and his friend, Violet could not help but furrow her brow at the strange situation she was being put in. 

Either Toby was given extra medicine which he decided to trash, or her brother was pretending to drink his medicine before storing it in a bottle and disposing of it. It was likely the second option, but she prayed to the Gods it was the first. 

Deciding she would keep the medicine better hidden than her brother had done, the vile slipped into Violet’s skirts along with the book she had previously stored there. She would know how to dispose of the medicine in an easier and more secret way than a trash din. Why her brother thought it would be a clever idea in the first place went beyond her imagination, but she supposed he was still a little young for intelligence. 

Violet climbed the stairs to her tower shortly after exiting her brother’s room. The options between confronting her brother about the medicine and not saying anything at all were weighing heavily on her thoughts. He was doing it for a reason, but what? 

The idea that this could all lead to his sudden headaches was certainly at the forefront of Violet’s mind as well. Who knew how long her brother had been doing this (and it was a wonder that he had not been caught) and who knew what the effects would be? 

What gave him the idea? 

She wanted to blame Tommy, but the young prince should not be held accountable for everything her brother did. While both boys had profound influence on each other, Violet had a feeling that Toby was dealing with this alone. 

It hurt, to know that he did not think he could trust her with his secret. 

_Well, you bother him enough with your problems._ Violet’s intrusive thoughts were loud. _That is_ _why he_ _does not_ _seek you out anymore-_ you _seek_ him _._

Burdening her brother with heavy problems and using him as a crutch at such a youthful age was sure to do some damage to the boy. There was only so much a sixteen-year-old could take, and Toby had more than enough problems to handle on his own. It was possible that having his own secrets was the only thing keeping his sanity. 

There was nothing more to do than to discard the things from Toby’s room to hers after the terrible realization. She had made her brother think his problems were less than hers. Guilt was a nasty thing, and the onslaught wave that cascaded over Violet’s body made her cold and nauseas. 

The young woman stayed in her room for some time, staring and pacing in no particular direction. Her head was empty, and her body numb, and for that she was grateful. But when answers to her brother’s problem finally came to her, she made the decision to let his secret be. If his condition got worse, she would press him for answers, but until then, his secret would be kept safe. 

If Toby really wanted to tell Violet, he would. Until then, she would keep quiet. 

Another hour passed, and everything felt brighter once again. The unpredictable highs and lows were beginning to exhaust Violet, but she was fortunate that the highs happened to transpire in the first place. Not every woman had her luck, with her wealth and status being major factor, and so she tried to look at her life in a way that made the air much less dense. 

Feeling it was time to get out of her room, Violet decided to look for the prince who had been absent at yet _another_ meal. Technoblade usually turned up for dinner, but all of the private meals he skipped. The young woman had hardly seen him the entire week; she was forced to spend all her time with her betrothed (who had been acting nothing more than cordial to her, even if she did not buy his act). 

Violet was almost to the library when she ran into a flustered prince. 

Unfortunately, it was not the prince she was looking for. Fortunately, she did kind-of like this one. 

“Will! I was just looking for your brother and…” 

“…there is a girl who works in the library.” 

Violet looked blankly at her interrupter. The prince was a foot away, looking at her dead in the eyes and the young girl felt obligated to step back. While she did _feel_ like he was asking a question, it sounded more so like a command. 

Violet answered him with an unsure, “Yes…?” 

“Yes,” Will nodded his head once, suddenly sure of everything. His tall figure straightened, and his lips stretched across pearly teeth to form a stunning smile. There was a glazed look in his eyes as he remembered everything he just saw. 

There was a girl working in the library, and she was _beautiful_. 

Violet stared, uncertain of his behavior. The conversation _felt_ similar to others, but something about the way he smiled give her the impression that the situation was fully different. She had never seen his eyes so bright. 

“What is her name?” 

The prince tried to seem nonchalant as he asked his friend his questions. He slackened his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest. He tried to look relaxed- but he looked more uncomfortable than Violet had ever seen him. She rolled her eyes- 

_Still dramatic._

“The girl you speak of, the librarian’s apprentice, her name is Niki and- hang on, why were you in the library _in the first place?_ You never go in there.” 

Wilbur looked frustrated that Violet had changed the subject. To be fair, she would be doing Niki a favor if she could get the prince to forget all about the girl with different colored hair. She would be doing them _both_ a favor, especially since Niki was far too smart to be with someone like- well, like Wilbur. 

“I was looking for Techno and afterwards I was going to fetch _you_ , but found the love of my life, instead. Could you introduce me to her?” He spoke with pleading, wide, eyes. His hands were clasped in front of him, as if he were saying a little prayer to the God, _Lorne_. 

Violet scoffed. “You have not _actually_ talked to her?” 

Wilbur began “Well- no-" but Violet could not listen to another lame excuse from the man-whore in front of her. At once, the familiarity of the conversation started to make sense. He had used Violet to get to other girls before, and she was not about to let Wilbur ruin everything Niki had worked for. If the librarian’s apprentice got caught up in a royal scandal, she could be shamed a whore before getting thrown into the streets. 

“Wilbur? Stay away from Niki. I really like her and the last thing she needs is for someone like _you_ to interfere with _her_ happiness. Got it?” 

Violet had pulled out her big-girl tone. Wilbur was looking at her with an outstanding look of betrayal, but she did not care for his act. He would get over Niki after a week. He had certainly gotten over all the other fixations he had previously had on ladies of the court, as well as the girls from Elkin’s tavern. Most of them were now heartbroken at being led-on by a prince. 

But despite this knowledge, Violet felt slight pity for the prince after seeing his lost expression. 

Pulling the man away from the library, she walked next to him and patted his arm comfortingly. He still had a dazed look in his eyes, and something in his stare made Violet wonder if she was making the wrong choice at keep the two separates. Niki could be _the_ _one_ , just like Wilbur had talked about earlier. Niki _could_ be able to tame the eldest prince, even if it should not be her job. 

But… the chances were slim. They certainly were not large enough for Violet to put Niki’s heart and reputation out on the line. 

“By the way, why were you looking for me and Techno? Has something happened?” She kept her concern to a minimum, but Violet could never predict what could happen, anymore. Everything had gone to shit when Alma had arrived with half of his court. His people were mostly pleasant, but there were rumors of them treating the non-human Viris staff like animals. 

Wilbur had not heard her. He was glancing behind them every so often, as if Niki were going to magically appear and offer her undying love to him. 

Violet had to snap in his face and repeat her question to make him talk. 

“Oh- uh, the lawman has arrived. We wanted you to meet him in father’s private study before anyone knew he was here…” 

“…By the Gods, Will! Why didn’t you say something sooner!?” 

And the two were racing down the hall. 

Wilbur whined at the fast-pace, and Violet giggled at his added gasp from the unladylike hike of her skirts. Violet had gathered the Viris-colored dress in her hands (abandoning the prince’s arm next to her) and her feet skipped happily on delicate shoes. She could break something, but she did not care. 

She was so excited, the prince next to her could hardly keep up. 

The lawman had arrived. And with him, Violet’s freedom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait! Break is over and I've had to move back to college. This week was my first week of classes and I'm still getting the hang of things, but I was eventually able to write. Thank-you for all the support that I've received and I'm sorry if I wasn't able to respond to your comment. I read ALL of them and they never fail to make me laugh and smile.
> 
> Alsoooo, any guesses for who the lawman will be?
> 
> ;)


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lawman arrives at Viris.

The arrival of the  lawman was a mission of secrecy. 

The mission, led by King Phil himself, turned out to be harder than expected. The man whose job was to free Violet from her bonds had a presence that could fill an entire room without even trying.

He was over-average in height- sure -but it was the way in which he stood (straight and tense) that made him  appear  much larger . Horns that sprouted out of dark  clean-cut hair, arched around the back of his head. The  ribbed horns ended their structure by narrowing at the end and pointed up at sharp  cheekbones that sat underneath a dark pair of  sullen eyes. His exposed hands, with large and pale slender fingers, were clasped behind his back as he gave his audience an  unfeeling grin. 

He was dressed in dark colors, which made him  looker older than he  was . The cloak he wore matched his raven hair, but the dark tunic and trousers underneath (as well as his boots) ranged from charcoal grey to something a few shades lighter. 

A red scarf that hung loosely around his neck was the only thing that gave him color, otherwise, he was as gloomy as a cloudy day with no rain-pour.

All these details came together to complete the image of a successful man. 

But he was also a man of uncaring ways and  precedencies . 

“Lady Violet, may I introduce Johnathan Schlatt, the lawman who will try his best to help you,” said King Phil. As he spoke, he led the girl next to his eldest son, further into the room. 

The young woman had stopped short in the doorway of Phil’s office when she had first seen the lawman. He was not what she had expected, but Violet did not know what she had expected in the first place. The man was looking away from her, narrowing his gaze at the prince besides her, until he caught Violet’s eyes with a vicious grasp that she could not look away from. He seemed to be analyzing her with just one look, but his concentration was broken when Wilbur nudged her to move further into the room.

As she walked towards the tall man who was  supposed to help her, Violet continued to keep her direct gaze on his. Her eyes peered underneath long lashes as she curtsied humbly before him. In return, he mirrored her with a bow, his own cold eyes never leaving hers. In his face, she recognized a familiarity that she could not place. 

She did not dwell on it for long; it bothered her.

Unlike the satyrs Violet had previously met, this one had pierced the end of one of his long falling ears. Most of his kind were  deeply religious , and piercings of any sort were prohibited. But it was there—a pure gold ring that dangled whenever he moved. It looked like it had cost him just as much as the expensive leather boots he wore, but  perhaps that was the point:

What was wealth if you could not show it?

“Your highness, please- call me by my surname,  and ”  Schlatt turned from speaking to the king and directed his attention once more towards the only girl in the room. He gave her his first real smile of the night, but Violet did not smile back. 

“Lady Violet, is it? You look just like your mother,” He said this so casually; so calmly.

Violet almost reeled back from shock. Her  gaping mouth would not close as she stared at the  lawman . He stared back blankly, not a single twitch on his face betrayed an ounce of his knowledge.

“ _ You knew my mother? _ ” Her voice, loud, was  shrill as it came out. 

Another smile, this time bitter. A low chuckle came to follow it.

Schlatt sighed before  sorrowfully (if  a bit exaggerative ly ) preforming his words with graceful hand-gestures. “I had figured your father would not talk of our long-past friendship.  We were just boys when he married Lila. But that was  _ after _ he left to fill his father’s shoes as Lord Smith, here in Viris.”

_ Lila _ . That was her mother’s name. Few times had Violet heard it spoken aloud. 

The King intervened after a moment of silence: “I was not made aware that you were acquainted with Gerard… will this be an issue?” 

Phil did not say it, but the concern of interference was there. The people in that room were actively and secretly going against Violet’s father and the promise he made to a king. A resurfacing friendship could cause problems.

The golden earring on his left ear swung as Schlatt shook his head violently.

“I assure you, while I have fond memories of Gerard and I’s childhood, what is in the past, is in the past. Besides,” he sighed melodramatically once more, “we did not part in good terms.”

There was so much to ask, but Violet could not let herself indulge in her curiosity. From the look of it,  Schlatt appeared to be almost troubled by the old memories that were  resurfacing, though he was good at hiding it. He was still powerful—intimidating—but his past was humanizing him right before Violet’s perceptive eyes. His expressions were easy to read, but she had a feeling no one else would be able to decipher them.

Maybe he _would_ be able to help her; they had both been hurt by the same person. A person they had thought loved them. And for some reason, she could understand his act better than anyone else could.

The idea was enough to make Violet trust him with her freedom, even if he  did not look like someone she  _ should _ trust. He had not done much to prove that his  impudent persona was just an act, but deep down, the young lady felt like he was  _ made _ into what he was. 

Just like she would be  _ made _ into a queen if Schlatt failed.

“Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to introduce my apprentice.” 

From behind Schlatt’s shifted figure was a younger, much shorter, human boy. No one had noticed him- and it was no wonder. His master was more eye-catching than the human that looked too young to be a practicing  lawman .

“This is Alex. I picked him up a few years ago from his starving family. He’s a good worker.” Schlatt patted the boy  roughly on his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, buddy?” 

“ _ Yessir _ !” Despite the unauthorized moment of Schlatt over sharing on the boy’s life-story, Alex smiled at everyone with ease. The smile reached the practicing lawman’s large brown eyes, and if he smiled any harder, his eyes looked like they would disappear. It looked natural on him, unlike his master, who looked like he forced every pleasant expression he gave. 

Violet noticed that Alex was handsome for someone so young. Not as handsome as Wilbur, per-say, but his shaggy dark hair went well with his medium skin-tone, and his youthful features made him seem likable and approachable.

Alex would make a good  lawman with his looks and good-natured personality. Someone like  _ him _ could easily manipulate clients and foes alike. His master, on the other hand, was a good  lawman simply because he could intimidate results out of anyone.

After introductions were finished, plans were made.

It was not until _after_ Schlatt explained how he was going to try and annul her wedding that Violet asked herself if he knew what he was doing. His simple-minded plans sounded like something _she_ could do, and she wondered if he had something up his sleeve that he was not revealing. He had been praised by the Badlands, by Eret, and supposedly King Jimmy from the North. _Surely_ the lawman’s secrecy—albeit, annoying—could save her from a loveless marriage. 

“I’ll need to see the The Codes, of course.” The Codes were a list of agreements that  all the surrounding kingdoms signed. They were universal laws that were meant to be followed, and if not signed, the code-less kingdom was considered dangerous and unaligned with the other kingdoms. “And then  I will need your kingdom’s laws, if you  do not mind, your highness. If  I am to cancel an agreement between two kingdoms, I’ll need  _ some _ rules to follow.”

Schlatt waited for Phil’s approval, and began to collect his things when a royal nod was sent his way. He went to work, then, leaving the room to follow Wilbur to his and Alex’s designated rooms. 

He would be placed in the guest rooms near the royals and the Smith’s. 

After the discovery of a distant friendship between Violet’s father and  Schlatt , she  was not entirely sure if that was  an innovative idea . She could only imagine what had happened between the two to make a stoic man like  Schlatt have such painful memories.

“Well… he seems trustworthy.”

The sarcastic comment was made from the darkest corner in the room after the door closed behind Wilbur, Schlatt, and his apprentice.

Technoblade had his arms crossed against his torso and he was leaned backwards. Nobody had seen him come in, but it was possible that he had been there the whole time. He looked settled into the wall, as if he had not moved for quite some time. 

It was certainly possible.

“Don’t judge a monster by its skin,” Violet quoted the Viris line  she had heard all her life with an eye-roll. She copied the prince’s stance, her arms wrapping themselves together as she leaned back on the decorative table behind her. 

Her eyes narrowed at the shadowed man, “Where have you been all day, hm?”

“Sleepin’.” The answer was quick, unnaturally so. “Where have  _ you _ been, Violet?”

The returned question was unexpected, and Violet raised her brow to it. Her cheeks were starting to heat like they usually did, and she was positive it was because of how direct his monotoned voice had become. He had not used that tone on her before,  _ especially _ not in front of his father.

Violet would have answered him if it  were not for Phil. He interrupted the two before they could start their antics.

“I’ll have you know that Violet is playing the game, son—exceptionally well—might I add,” Phil gave the young woman a fond wink before circling around to sit at his desk. 

He called her acting performance a  _ game _ , but Violet  did not think it was  very  _ fun _ . 

Phil, now settled at his desk, pointed a finger at his son. “And  Schlatt can be  trusted, if under a watchful eye. Darryl and Sam told me that I would have to make sure he  is not stealing ale, and  that is it.  The mass amounts of alcohol he can consume, slows down his work-- apparently.”

“Oh, so he’s a drunk  _ too? _ How professional.”

Violet turned from her smiling king to look at the prince with a  scowl . He still  had not moved an inch, and although it was hard to see his face in the shadows, she could tell Techno was unimpressed with the way things were going. It was as if she could draw the  condescending expression on his dark and blurry face from memory.

“I’m sorry—I did not know you were  _ Prince Perfect, _ ” Violet said, bluntly. She could not understand why he was being so condemning. He was not usually this vocal about his doubts. “When did you get so critical, anyway?”

“When did you care?” The question was a serious one, and Techno did not mean it in bad taste. He genuinely wanted to know— but he should have realized that his tone would be an issue  _ again _ . 

From his father’s perspective, and from Violet’s, he sounded rude and  unfeeling .

Phil snapped his fingers, gaining the attention of the  open-mouthed lady and the  immediately nervous prince. 

“Both of you—stop. And Techno…” The king sighed. He quickly scrapped what he was going to say, and instead looked at both of his children  sternly . “I’d expect this with Wilbur in the room, but not the two of you.”

Techno did not much care for scolding, and he usually  was not bothered by it— but this time he was. He shifted on his feet, finally moving, and stole a quick look at the girl near his father. Her face was red, he noticed it did that a lot, and watched as she swallowed thickly before nodding her head.

“I’m sorry, my king.”

His father waved his hand in signal for forgiveness. 

In truth, Phil did not care, but he knew Violet was raised to be proper at all-times. She was in-horror at her behavior, and the king felt bad for making her embarrassed. 

The king looked to his son, not expecting anything remorseful, but was surprised when his middle child looked to be guilty as well. The king narrowed his eyes, wondering if it was an act, but no: his son was  apologetic .  Technoblade was giving his father a look, in which the King returned it with a forgiving nod.

_ What had gotten into him today? _

“Well, if you two don’t mind, I need to finish my kingly duties for this afternoon,” Phil then took up his feathered  quill , and began writing on documents without another word. The two young people glanced awkwardly towards each other before exiting out of the king’s office.

“Play nice, you two,” was the last thing Violet and Technoblade heard before the heavy double-door closed behind them.

In the hall, no one was present. It was no wonder, hardly anyone had access to the royal family rooms. The only other people that lived on that side of the castle were the Smiths and special guests, and if everyone was busy, the halls of that floor were unoccupied most of the day.

Knowing that they were completely alone, Violet turned to her friend to say:

“I’m sorry for snapping at you…”

“…I apologize if I sounded rude.”

Similar words spoken at the same time dwindled into a messy silence. Both knew that no  one's feelings had truly been hurt, but the tension had been there. Neither understood  _ why _ it was awkward between themselves. A week of barely talking, and it was as if they had forgotten how to be friends. 

Violet had the smallest inclination that it also had to do with their last conversation (the one where she had brought the prince to a near-heart attack with a suggestive  jest ). 

Even now, the lady wanted to  scrunch up her face from embarrassment at the memory. She should  _ not _ have said the things she had said, but it was too late to apologize and she did not want to bring the memory back for the  both of them to remember. She could only imagine the excuse the prince would make just so that he could escape the conversation.

Techno shifted on his feet, an explanation to leave already in the works. He was never good at confrontation, and he did not plan  to improve that weakness. In truth, he figured that strengthening his and Violet’s relationship would eventually mean nothing once she got married to King Alma, so what was the point in reconciliation? He  did not see why he should torture himself in her presence when she was not even guaranteed to stay.

It might sound harsh, but that was how he saw it. No point in hurting himself, further.

Ever since that night in the hallway, Techno had been questioning everything about himself, and he blamed  _ her _ . Before then, he had assumed he did not care about the female  _ or _ male gaze… until Violet made that fucking pig joke.

It had ignited something strange inside of him. It wasn’t _lust_ (he wasn’t ever affected as his elder brother was) but it _was_ something he had never experienced. The asexual nature of his Piglin blood had been proven dominant until his heart— _his stupid fucking heart_ —fluttered after touching her arm that fateful night. 

It was his luck, to feel his first ever attraction (however small and meaningless it was) towards someone that was not his to have. But Violet was never supposed to be  _ anyone's _ in the first place, and it felt wrong to feel for her in a way that  wasn’t friendly. She was a free spirit— as was he. They were both better off alone.

Opening his mouth to excuse himself after his random philosophical train of thought, Technoblade was stopped mid-breath with: 

“Your brother has developed a crush on Niki,” Violet said abruptly, unaware of the prince’s conflicted feelings. The topic of Niki was the first thing she could  produce . She missed talking to her  friend and wanted to find a topic that would make their time together  less awkward .

Luckily, it seemed to work.

“Uh… the librarian girl?” Techno approached the question as if he were afraid he would be right, even if his expression made him look like he could care less. After Violet nodded to confirm, he could only ask one thing: 

“Why was he in the library?”

Violet laughed, glad that he was responding in the correct way. “He was looking for the both of us, but found Niki, instead.” She rolled her eyes while speaking. “He didn’t even talk to her. ‘Just took one good look at her and swooned.”

Techno scoffed and shrugged his shoulders once, “Well… yeah… that sounds like Wilbur.” 

An  undertone of embarrassment was laced in his usual bored voice. He wanted to change the subject, because he also wanted nothing to do with gossip concerning his brother. The Gods knew Techno had heard enough from the man himself. 

(Late-night rescues from Elkin’s Tavern would usually lead to drunk-Wilbur leaning on his brother, telling Techno of all the  ghastly things  he had done in the brothel. Those were the nights that Techno  _ loathed but _ felt necessary. He  did not like his brother falling asleep in those damn abominations, but he would not stop Wilbur from going. That  wasn’t Techno’s place.

Wilbur would find solace in sobriety from alcohol and women, eventually. Hopefully.)

The two had begun to walk together, then. They were making their way to the terrace gardens, though, neither had discussed it. No one was around, and so Violet and Techno stood a foot apart, comfortably walking freely together instead of properly escorting each other at the arms. 

The young woman noticed that the prince was only wearing his loose undershirt for a top, just as he usually did. Techno's shoulder-length pink hair was unfixed and untamed, confirming his day-nap.  His lack of propriety always made Violet want to kick her shoes off and walk barefoot. No heels seemed the equivalent of an absent restrictive vest.

“How was your poetry book?” Techno asked politely.

Violet had a confused look on her face as she pondered on his question. 

When she did not answer, Techno glanced down at the young woman and elaborated: “The poetry book Niki had found for you. You were readin’ it the day King Alma came.”

“Oh! I’m surprised you remembered.” 

For no reason at all, Violet felt her cheeks become heated. She  could not tell if it was from the embarrassment for not remembering something that happened only five days before, or if it was because someone  actually pai d attention to her interests.

Either way, Violet smiled as she answered him. “It was splendid. There were many reflective pieces…  How would you know it was a poetry book, anyways? I never mentioned it.”

Still walking, Techno  furrowed his brow at the question. 

“You only read poetry.” He said it as if it were  _ so _ obvious \--  as if she were dense for asking it. 

“Oh.” The blush was growing. She  had not realized that it was  _ obvious _ that she only read poetry. It  wasn’t as if she had  _ said _ anything about it to him… but then again, the prince was smart— smarter than anyone Violet had ever met. He  probably saw the authors of the books she was reading and knew what genre they wrote. 

Still, it was nice to know someone cared enough to notice, even if she  _ was _ predictable.

“Well, what about you? Do you still re-read that war-tactic book every month?”

They both took a turn and met a wooden door. Techno walked in front of Violet as he thought on her question. Tugging on the polished silver nob to open the door for the m both , the prince finally answered her with a small smile and a short “Sometimes.”

The terrace gardens were open-access to anyone who worked or stayed in the castle, but few visited the lush roof-top. Large bins, wooden boxes, and large clay  flowerpots were filled with dirt,  greenery , and mostly purple flowers. Amongst the organized mess were several statues of different gods and their animal symbols. 

Here, you could come to pray (which Violet did less-frequently than when she was a child— and Techno , never ), but mostly, it was a place to be alone.

The prince felt comfortable next to Violet as they stood close in the doorway to view the gardens together. His mood towards her had changed  drastically since the few minutes before. He was remembering what it was like having her as a friend— a fourth of their friendship relied heavily on bashing Wilbur’s decisions, another quarter belonging to their love of books, and the missing half went towards their shared ability to stay silent when nothing was left to be said.

Techno had noticed that  the vast majority of the population ( _ especially _ his brothers) did not know how to do that. They were always wanting to fill the silence with meaningless comments. 

But not Violet. She was content with saying nothing, even as they began walking into the gardens.

Both Violet and Techno held a sense of secular reverence as they walked silently amongst the overflow of plants and flowers. The idea that they were both completely alone did not bother either of the two, and if anyone were to see them unchaperoned, most people would not bat an eye. It was a common and an accepted occurrence to find Lady Violet and one of the Viris  princes alone together. 

But that was not necessarily the case for  _ everyone _ who was alone together.

Technoblade heard the whispering, first. His pointed ears were sensitive, and it was not unusual for him to come upon secretive conversations by accident. But this time, whoever was whispering was not doing  a particularly  excellent job at it.

Violet could hear them eventually, as well. The lady and the prince both stopped dead in their tracks to hear what was going on. The pair of voices were coming from beyond the large hedges that held a secluded sitting bench. From their tone, it was easy to tell that there were two men talking. There was no doubt that these men were sitting on the hidden bench.

Only able to hear the voices and not the words they were speaking, Violet turned to Techno. She hoped that he would be able to hear what they were saying. From the look on his face, he could certainly understand what they were talking about and who the men were. 

Another mumbling second passed before Technoblade’s eyes widened and his face— _his_ _own_ face, for once—turned red. 

“Okay, yup… time to go.” His low words were quiet, but there was a clear panic somewhere between them.

Techno ushered Violet to start moving, his hands gently pushing at her waist to go forward. She was resistant at  first, wanting an explanation. But the moan that was sounded from behind the tall hedges made her eyes go wide before she moved without hesitancy. Violet understood why Techno was so eager to get out of there. 

Neither of the two looked back as they found one of the garden exits. Violet reached the wooden door first, tugging the silver handle with urgency. She could feel herself start to grin from the ridiculousness of the situation but waited to shut the door behind Techno before she truly allowed herself an out-of-breath chuckle. 

She thought a short laugh would be enough, but another giggle escaped her lips as she leaned against the door. The prince was still red in the face from what he heard, but his widened eyes soon squinted from the smile that stretched his mouth. 

Techno allowed himself a small laugh, too.

Soon, they were both laughing together, unable to stop as they stood close in the arched doorway. It was stupid—and immature, but it was too funny. They were soon out of breath, clutching their own waists as they bended from the strain of laughing. 

Techno’s breathy laugh was higher than his usual deep voice , while Violet’s was solid and loud. Their laughter harmonized together as they continued to reflect on what just happened.

Amid their laughter with tears in her eyes, Violet wondered who was behind the bushes, but then decided not to ask. She had a feeling Techno  would not reveal who it was even if she _did_ inquire. It was not like him to gossip.

Besides, the prince and the lady each momentarily forgot everything as they doubled over in laughter. Another laughing fit was beginning, even as they tried to catch their breath. 

It felt good to laugh when it was such a rare occurrence. But really, it was just nice to have someone to laugh with. 

Only the gods could appreciate how special that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a day off and wrote all of this in a few hours. Haha!
> 
> How do we feel, folks? Who was behind the bushes? Anyone important? Who knows!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the past. Then, an unfortunate circumstance occurs. Wilbur sees an opportunity.

_Three Years Earlier_

_..._

A prince must never be late… unless he is. In that case, everyone else is simply early.

It was a common saying amongst royals. The word _prince_ could be replaced with king, princess, and queen. It was a versatile saying, which is why it was so popular. Still, it didn’t resonate with fathers who looked at punctuality through a strict scope.

Clay was out of breath as he quickly made his way to his king father’s study. He had just turned eighteen, been given a week of slack, and now he was expected to fall back into his princely duties. He was miserable.

The morning had been filled with ruthless combat-training, but Clay dreaded his lessons with his father more-so than the training master himself. At least in the ring Clay felt like he could _focus_ but concentrating on words and numbers felt nearly impossible. He tried— he really did— but something was _constantly_ nagging on his mind to move, to speak. It worsened when he was forced to focus on things he simply did not care about.

The guards near his father’s study opened the sturdy dark oak doors once he arrived.

Moving forward, taking a deep breath, Clay was met with a surprise. There, next to his father, was a man that the prince had never seen before. He was nicely built, was slightly over-average in height, and he had an impeccable taste in clothing. The man looked like a lord, but certainly not from their kingdom. The stranger wasn’t wearing the blues and dark greys of Drachlyn. Instead, he was wearing a deep emerald green, with tones of purples on the seams of his tunic. Clay had never seen this combination of colors before, but then again, their secluded and newly made kingdom did not receive many foreign guests.

“Clay, it seems as though you are late.”

King Alma was scolding his son in front of a stranger, his great stature bearing down upon the boy. It made the prince angry, but he stood up straighter, not letting the words get to him. He never understood why his father felt the need to talk to him like he was a child.

“Yes, father. Training, I am afraid, went over the usual time. I apologize.”

It was a lie. Training had ended two hours ago. The last couple of hours had actually been filled with quiet sessions of chess and soft, secretive, laughter. Clay had won only twice out of six games— but it felt good to let his opponent to win. The smiles of excitement and the petty taunts had been worth it. Even when he lost four gold pieces to his dear friend.

Alma didn’t buy the lie, but he accepted it begrudgingly. He didn’t want to cause a scene with a stranger in the room. They were _not_ low-life creatures of the night.

“Well, now that you are here, I’d like for you to become acquainted with Lord Gerard Smith. He’s from the Kingdom of Viris, I’m sure you remember it.”

Clay did. It was a kingdom of great beauty and power. But the prince also remembered how often his father spoke down on the Viris people with a sense of arrogance, taunting the kingdom’s peaceful nature.

_“They could have the world,”_ Clay’s father had once said. _“But they chose to let their power rot— to waste in a cell of peace.”_

_A cell of peace._ It sounded nice.

“Yes, I remember it,” Clay finally answered like a good child.

Alma nodded, pleased. “Yes, well, Gerard here has proposed a plan to unite our two kingdoms.” The King was suddenly smiling, excited as he reflected on all the future possibilities.

Clay could only look dumbly at his father, taking a seat as he waited for elaboration. Their kingdom was mostly alone, they were too far out and too fresh of a kingdom to have allies. They were personally acquainted with the Badlands, but _that_ relationship was built out of lies and betrayal. They never spoke about it, Clay and Alma. It was too painful for the prince, and too embarrassing for the king.

Alma extended his arm to Gerard, inviting him to speak on the very important matter.

The lord cleared his throat, before speaking his plan to the prince. “I have a daughter, Lady Violet, who is only sixteen, but when she comes of age, I have proposed that she should be married to the prince of Drachlyn. She is very beautiful and…” Gerard took Clay’s astounded face as one for excitement and continued with a happily, “…highly virtuous and skilled at everything a lady does. I have made sure of it, myself.”

The look on Clay’s face did not leave when Lord Smith finished his proposal. In fact, the prince might have stayed like that if it weren’t for his father’s stern stare.

He shut his gaping mouth only to stutter out, “Is- is this set-in stone?”

He looked to his father for answers, but the expression on the king’s face gave Clay nothing. Alma was simply watching his son, trying to detect any sort of weakness from the boy’s reaction. He was sitting across from his son with all the patience in the world. He wanted to investigate what was making his son so queasy. And so, he let the situation go on, only so that Clay might mess up and spill his secrets. His son was known for word-vomiting when nervous.

Clay was already cracking. He was processing the information with miserable thoughts swirling at the forefront of his brain.

The king, despite cruel tactics he was using on his only son, had already decided that he was _not_ going to make Clay marry the girl. Their Kingdom needed heirs of pure royal blood, not some half-wit child of ladyship and royalty. Alma had already decided that _he himself_ would marry the girl—he just had not told anyone yet. Alma did not want to interfere with his Clay's panic. It was too interesting.

Lord Smith answered the prince when the king remained silent. “Not quite, your majesty. Your king father and I have been discussing the elements of the plan. Nothing has been decided… Although, your willingness would help the process, I’m sure.”

Clay wanted to spit in the man’s face.

Who was _he,_ a lord, to tell a _prince_ that Clay was nothing more than a solution? He felt like a dog, practically being taunted with a bone. Except _this_ bone had no appeal— none at all.

He had to _think_. He was definitely not getting out of this one with the excuse of ‘I don’t want to.’ No, his father would not buy that. The prince would just get laughed at before being chained to a stupid fucking _girl_. 

And that's when it hit him.

“Oh but… My lord, my king,” Clay said, his mood changing instantly. “I’m afraid my father has been forgetful. I am to marry someone of royalty. I don’t doubt that your beautiful daughter would be a wonderful wife but I…”

Clay hesitated. He stared at his father with a smug expression, knowing he had a good excuse. A small sense of mischief replaced his fleeing fear as the prince spoke. The king was still expressionless, giving him nothing. The prince had to tear his eyes away from the hold of his father to continue his partial lie.

“…but I simply cannot marry your Lady Violet. I am sorry.”

Naturally, Lord Smith looked disappointed. That was how Clay knew he had given a fair excuse. He settled into another smug smile, knowing he had done well.

But of course, his father could not leave _anything_ alone.

“Then what do you suggest, my boy? The ties between Viris and Drachlyn could be strong with this matrimony. Who should she marry, if not you?”

Lord Smith was nodding his head, agreeing full-heartedly with King Alma. The stranger was desperate, and it was showing. Clay had assumed his eagerness was tied to the fact that a marriage between his daughter and a prince would give him great power. At the time, the prince had not known that Gerard was just fulfilling a promise made to his late wife.

Jokingly, Clay finally spoke. “She could marry you, father.”

It _had_ been a joke. He didn’t ever think his father would marry a girl so young. All these years, and Alma was still pained by the memory of his late wife. He wouldn’t just throw Evelyn’s honor away for a girl younger than their only son.

“What an excellent idea, Clay.”

The prince felt himself go cold.

_What in the gods was his father talking about_? Perhaps the king was joking too.

But the next hour felt slow and miserable as Alma spoke of plans that did _not_ sound like jesting. Clay could do nothing but sit there, astounded at the things he was hearing. Had his father gone _mad_ , or was he simply dreaming?

Lord Smith had been stubborn at first, too. He had tried to talk the king out of such a preposterous idea, but a fleeting moment of thought had passed Gerard’s face. He had glanced over at Clay- a look of guilt passing his features- before agreeing to let his daughter marry the king. The guilty expression was filled with scheme, and Clay had not liked it.

But… the prince had not felt inclined to question it. In fact, he had not felt the need to speak at all.

His father had gone insane, and Clay was to have a stepmother younger than he was. A small sense of guilt plagued the prince as he thought of the young girl back in Viris, unbeknownst of the plans each of their fathers were making.

The world had gone insane, and Clay felt like it was partially his fault.

…

_Present_

...

It was the morning of the jousting tournament. The castle was lively and bustling as most of the staff members prepared for the great event. Servants from Viris, if not human, made sure to keep away from the Lords and Ladies from Drachlyn. Those who were deemed appropriate by those same lords and ladies took double shifts so that their non-human friends could stay safe and hidden in the kitchens and other less-occupied rooms.

Well, everyone who _remembered_ to stay safe and hidden.

Ranboo was doing his daily tasks. He had woken early, like he usually did, and began doing all the chores meant for someone of his unnatural height. Dusting chandeliers; rearranging things on tall shelves; wiping down wall-length mirrors; cleaning melted wax off of candelabras from the night before. All of these things were written in a tiny notebook the head of staff had given him.

The head of staff had once made him feel normal when she mentioned that everyone forgets what they're doing every now and then. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who needed a list to remind him of all the things that he needed to do. Ranboo did not care if the head mistress had lied to make him feel better, it felt nice.

But today was an odd day. People who did not usually do tasks on the main floor… were doing tasks on the main floor. Ranboo did not have a good memory, but he knew faces. He also knew that these faces were working at the wrong time.

_Have I got the time of day wrong?_ Ranboo broke out in a sweat when he thought he might have slept in for too long. He had never done that, but it would not be a surprise to him or anyone else.

People in the halls were giving him odd looks—or warning ones. He could never tell the difference. When he was walking to one of the public gardens on the ground-floor to trim the large hedges, someone finally stopped him. Luckily, it was a very good friend of his. His face lit up with excitement as his sister came straight to him in a frenzy.

“Ranboo! What are you doing? I thought you’re supposed to be in the kitchens for today…”

“…Hi, Niki! Everyone is looking at me weird.”

He gave the shorter girl a friendly smile. She could not see it, but his eyes scrunched with joy behind the tinted glasses he wore as he examined his sister.

Ranboo noticed the way Niki was dressed; she wore an ensemble more colorful than her librarian clothes. He never understood _why_ she had to dress so drab, even if she was technically part of the staff. The modest baby-blue dress she currently wore, suited her better than the browns and greys she usually adorned.

“You should be in the commons right now, or the kitchens. Even _I_ was given permission to leave the library today...” Niki nervously pulled a few strands from her blonde hair to put them behind her ear. Her eyes were shifting around, making sure no one was around to yell at the two for being stalled in the hallway. “…you should go to your room for now, okay? When everyone leaves for the tournament, the servants and staff are all going to have a big lunch together, and some games will be prepared too!”

Ranboo stared down at the excited young woman in confusion. There was a _tournament_? And a lunch for the staff? What was he supposed to do _now_? He relied heavily on a constant schedule.

The boy nearly broke out in a sweat thinking about his ruined routine.

Noticing he was panicking, Niki patted his arm softly and reassured him. “Just go to your room, okay? I’ll come and get you for lunch, mm-hm? Maybe we can visit Nan afterwards…”

Niki was in the process of turning away from her brother when someone snapped at the two from down the hall. Both of the young adults jumped and turned as a sickly-thin human lady storm towards them. Pointing a long and pale finger accusingly at the two, the woman swayed back and forth from her thin stature as she drew closer. 

Niki stepped out in front of Ranboo, protectively. She could tell the older woman was from Drachlyn. The dark blues gave it away. (As was the hatred and fear in the lady’s eyes as she approached them.)

“What in the gods are you?”

It was a fair question. Not many people could say they knew anyone who looked like Ranboo. Niki remembered when she first met him, how young they had both been, and how strange he had appeared to her.

Their nan had adopted him when she was only six, and he, four. Little Niki had been confused by his appearance as well. But, unlike this woman, Niki had been raised right. Her nan had taught her to treat everyone— even the weird ones— with kindness.

Another thing her nan had taught her? Throw away kindness when a person is being a complete ass.

“His name is Ranboo, he is a servant of His Majesty, King Phil, and he is _none_ of your concern.” Niki’s voice was firm, but still quiet in her nature. She surprised herself when she didn’t mess up or lost her voice completely. Gaining confidence, Niki narrowed her eyes at the flabbergasted lady. “We were just on our way to the kitchens. Excuse us.”

Niki was grabbing her brother’s arm and nudging him to move. Awkwardly, Ranboo politely bowed his head (like he was taught) to the angry lady in front of him before moving his long legs to follow Niki to the kitchens.

His sister was nervous, he could tell from the way her hand squeezed at the crook of his arm.

“ _I beg your pardon?_ ” The lady asked. Her voice was shrill, ugly.

Ranboo made the mistake of turning around to look at the lady. He nearly reeled back from the disturbing look on her face.

Niki had a worried look on her face, but she still tried to tug Ranboo to follow her. She had the false sense of hope that if they left quickly enough, the woman would forget what the two siblings looked like. She did not want the wretched lady to tell their bosses what had just occurred. Neither of them could afford losing their job.

Just as she thought her hopes were becoming true, Niki unexpectedly let out a gasp when a clawed hand wrapped around her upper arm. The nails of the woman they belonged to were sharp and sinking into her skin.

The young girl whipped her head around to find angry eyes bearing themselves into her own. The woman and her were almost the same height, but Niki suddenly felt very small.

The lady’s face reddened. “I asked you a question, and you treat me as a mere citizen! I am a High Lady of the Drachlyn court, and I demand respect…”

“…What the hell is going on here?”

The three occupants of the hallway all turned to look at the fourth person who had joined.

There, only a few feet away, was Prince Wilbur of Viris.

In seconds, Ranboo bowed, Niki curtsied, and the woman who still held the young woman’s arm stood shock-still. Eventually, the Drachlyn woman _did_ curtsy. It was low and long. She took extra time to bow her head in respect, and Wilbur could do nothing but wait impatiently for her to finish.

“Your Highness, how gracious of you to come to my defense.”

The woman’s voice was pretty, now. Her expression was light and perfect, and it was clear that she had practice speaking to royalty.

“These two servants have deliberately ignored my inquiries as to why they’re in the halls. This one-" The lady aggressively shook Niki by the arm “-was even rude about it.”

Niki was trembling as the lady gripped her tighter. She tried to keep her chin high but knew her act would melt into frustrated tears if the situation was not solved soon. The jobs that had been given to her and Ranboo were good ones, enjoyable ones, and knowing that everything could be taken away was too sad to bare.

Her brother could only stare at the ground in shame. He had met this prince once, and while Wilbur had been very kind, Ranboo guessed that someone could only mess up so much before they received punishment. A prince could only be so merciful, and Ranboo had done something wrong _twice_ in one month.

Wilbur was watching everything through narrowed eyes. He knew what had happened. He had been able to hear most of the conversation before he rounded the corner to view the scene before him.

First, he had spotted the Drachlyn woman.

Then, he noticed the servant boy. Wilbur remembered the kid’s name to be Ranboo. He was not hard to remember.

And lastly, Wilbur laid eyes on the prettiest girl in the whole world.

Against Violet’s advice, the prince had stopped by the library that morning to catch a glimpse of the librarian girl. He was disappointed when he could not discreetly find her and had even asked Mr. Jacobs where she was. The old librarian had shook his head disapprovingly before begrudgingly telling Wilbur that Niki had been allowed the day off for the tournament.

The eldest prince had walked out of the library feeling empty. He couldn’t understand why he _cared_ so much— but he did. It might be dramatic of him to say, but he felt like he would die without seeing her at least once every day.

So, imagine his surprise when he saw the girl of his desires in the clutches of a High Lady of a different court.

Needless to say… he was not pleased.

Wilbur had to calm himself with a low chuckle as he crossed his arms against his torso. He borrowed his intimidation stance from Technoblade, knowing it would come across as though he was unbothered. (It always seemed to work, and it made his younger brother look cool— Wilbur wanted to look cool.) A sword on his hip would have looked even better, but he supposed it was impossible to perfectly capture his brother’s identity.

“What’s your name, madame?” Wilbur stared mockingly at the woman as she batted her eyes at him. The fingers on both of his hands drummed absentmindedly against the expensive fabric that wrapped around his biceps. He waited for her response with little patience within himself.

The woman had enough decency to look nervous as she said: “My name is Lady Charlotte Brynn of Drachlyn, y-your Highness.”

The prince quirked a brow as Lady Brynn curtsied once more. He pointed at the woman, his brow creasing as he straightened his finger at her face.

“You’re considered a lady of your kingdom’s court?”

Lady Brynn looked back at Wilbur with her own face full of bewilderment. She had finally let go of Niki’s arm. The young apprentice stepped back, rubbing the pain from her arm as she shuffled closely to the boy servant next to her. She watched intently at what was going on, wishing it would all just go away.

“I- I- don’t know what you mean, your Highness,” Lady Brynn finally said. Her previously victorious expression was wilting, slowly being crushed by the prince in front of her. “My husband is Lord Brynn, and he was appointed by King Alma, himself.”

Wilbur scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, but that’s not what I asked.”

The eldest prince was staring blankly at the lady, now. All form of humor was washed from his expression. All that was previously there had vanished. He had been able to turn something in himself off since he was just a child. As a prince, Wilbur found it proved to be _most_ beneficial.

Both Ranboo and Niki took a step back.

Lady Brynn gulped loudly. “Wha-What was it that you wanted, th-then, your highness?”

“Well, I guess I wanted to know why in the _Nether_ someone as vile and disgraceful as _you_ would ever be considered a ‘lady,’” Wilbur spoke mercilessly. He laughed mid-sentence, too. It only rubbed his anger further into Lady Brynn’s terrified face.

Wilbur took a step closer. He bent down; his mouth next to the ear of the quivering lady. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, but he did not care.

He whispered, “Go back to your kingdom. We have no room for ‘ladies’ who treat servants like monsters, such as yourself.”

Two steps back, Wilbur straightened up and looked down on Lady Brynn once more. It took less than a second for the woman's face to flare bright red. Five more, and she was curtsying for the prince, before hurriedly scurrying away like a little mouse.

_She looks stupid_ , Wilbur thought dryly. He had never seen a more pathetic woman.

Niki was still focused on her arm, massaging the sore muscle beneath her skin. She could not tell if it would bruise, her cotton sleeve was covering her skin, but it was probable that the surface area was already swelling and red. Lady Brynn may have had a bad attitude, but she also had a strong grip.

“Did she hurt you badly?” The question came from the prince.

He smiled apologetically as Niki shook her head nervously at him. His heart was pounding from actually talking to her. He had envisioned a different environment, but he could not say he was disappointed. She could never disappoint.

“I can do more than say mean words to her, you know. Just say the words, and I’ll lock her up forever.”

It was meant to be a joke, but Niki frowned disapprovingly. “No! She did not do any harm. I- it was our fault.” Wilbur raised a questionable brow (even if his heart was about to burst from hearing her sweet voice for the first time), and the librarian refused to look him in the eye as she mumbled, “We shouldn’t have been in the hallway. We’re sorry, your Highness.”

Ranboo was nodding his head rapidly, agreeing with his sister. The two stood close together, each refusing to look their prince in the eye. They knew their royals were kind people, but there was still a social standard to uphold— and they were expected to keep it and not make fools of themselves.

Disobeying a lady from a different court was one thing, but disrespecting a prince was much different. They would have to play this carefully if they wanted to keep their jobs.

Meanwhile, Wilbur could not fathom what he was hearing, nor seeing.

He had heard _everything_! He knew for certain they were not at fault. Yet, here they were, blaming themselves. That _fucking_ wretched woman was being defended by her own victims.

_You can’t help the way peasants think. You were raised differently, Wilbur. Much differently._

His father’s words rang true. Wilbur was raised to _fight_ oppression; peasants to accept it. It seemed that even in his father’s righteous kingdom, there were still class differences. Being king did not seem so bad when Will realized he could become an advocate to fix those problems.

But that day had not come, yet. And until then, he would just have to have a bit of fun.

“Well, I supposed you must be punished,” Wilbur said with a melancholy sigh.

Niki looked up from the stone floors with a subdued look of terror. Ranboo had a stricken expression as well, and it took everything in the prince not to laugh. He wasn’t going to punish them, _obviously_ , but it didn't hurt to make them think they were getting in trouble. Besides, he was _not_ about to let Niki slip away from him _just yet_.

Wilbur straightened himself, his posture perfect and kingly. “Yes, a punishment must be dealt to each of you. Swiftly, too.”

The young woman and her adopted brother returned their solemn eyes back to their prince’s feet. They were accepting their unjust penalty quietly. Wilbur would have called his jest to quits right then and there, if it weren’t for the creeping grin that accompanied his words:

“How do the two of you feel about tournaments?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooooo sorry for the late update. College is a bitch.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of the tournament, and some sneaky Techno.

The first day of the week-long festivities was windy. The stands that held hundreds of lords, ladies, and peasants, all lacked the usual pastel hand-held fans. Although, _some_ still found use of the fans to hide flirtatious smiles that were caused by all of the handsome young men who passed by. Most of the older women and men had enough maturity to scoff at the young people, but their taunts and jests would die in their throats when the future King of Viris passed by.

Today, he was dressed in silky greys that complimented his skin wonderfully. His hair had been combed, long curls coming to rest perfectly on his head. Some strands managed to sweep themselves over his dark eyes, which furthered his ‘dark prince’ aura.

At this point, Wilbur was used to the stares. But the two young people numbly walking next to him certainly _were not_.

When Will had told them that their punishment was to accompany him to the tournament, Ranboo had laughed in his face. The humble servant had thought that his prince was jesting, but it was becoming increasingly apparent to him that he was not lying. He had expected two weeks of work without wages— not following a prince to special events as ‘ _equals_ ’.

Niki had stayed silent ever since their punishment had been announced, only speaking when spoken to, which drove Will mad. She had a look on her face that made him wonder if she hated him. The thought was painful, but the prince wouldn’t let himself dwell on it for too long- she was just shy.

_Shy._

The term had been used to describe Niki for as long as she had remembered. It was a word all of the neighboring kids had thrown at her when she wouldn’t play with them as a child, and it was now used as a cushion term by the men whose romantic flirtations she turned down. She wasn’t _shy_ , she just did not find interest in speaking to people that were not worth her time.

Niki snuck a glance at the prince next to her and Ranboo and felt herself grow angry.

_Why was he doing this?_ Was he going to humiliate them in front of the crowd? Was he going to let the lords and ladies of Drachlyn and Viris throw carrots and apples as she and her brother cowered, chained to the field? Niki could imagine it, her body shielding young Ranboo from yet another traumatizing moment for the both of them.

People never _could_ leave him alone. And she would always pay the brunt of it— voluntarily.

The sun was bright, warming the wind and stopping it from becoming chilly, but that didn’t stop the chiding of Queen Kristen as she told her middle son to put his jacket and vest back on. She knew how cold he got from his unnaturally warm temperatures, and he always tried to act like it didn’t bother him. She couldn’t understand for the life of her why he pretended he wasn’t cold, and so she constantly pestered him to cover up.

Technoblade was staring blankly at his worrying mother while the girl next to him laughed quietly into her hand. He almost slid his gaze over to her smiling eyes to warn her to stop, but he decided against it. Her giggles were more pleasant than the constant nagging of his mother.

Violet and Techno were still being distracted by Queen Kristen when they both saw Wilbur at the exact same time. They were both incredibly observant, and it wasn’t hard to spot the two figures trailing behind him.

“Oh no,” Violet whispered.

Techno agreed silently by nodding, knowing exactly where this was all going.

“Hello, mother! Tommy, Toby, father,” Wilbur spoke his greetings while he moved into the shaded royal box. His two shadows followed close behind, nervously. “Prince Clay, King Alma, pleasant to see you, as always… ah! Techno, you actually came, and…”

“…Wilbur, what in the _Nether_ is this?”

Violet was the first to call him out, but she waited when he got close enough for her to whisper-scream at him. She was furious, knowing he had deliberately gone out of his way to ignore her advice. And now— well, now there was a terrified girl trailing behind him.

King Alma, whom Violet had thankfully not been made to sit next to, was having another surprised heart-attack from seeing the second prisoner of Wilbur’s. Most of the people in the box had never had the pleasure to meet the half-Enderman boy, but both kings who were present remembered just fine.

King Phil, who never much cared who his sons befriended, calmed his confused wife with a squeeze to her hand. He calmed _everyone_ as he spoke. “Wilbur, where are your manners? Introduce your friends. I believe I’ve had the pleasure to meet this kind young-man, already.”

Wilbur nodded. “Yes, this is Ranboo, whom some of you already know,” Wilbur side-eyed the other king and Clay before continuing, “and this is Niki. She’s… Well, she’s…”

Violet watched everything transpire with horror. Will was such a _fucking_ idiot, he couldn’t even see the way Niki paled, or the way Ranboo nervously shuffled on his feet. He was completely blind; it was all because he was too infatuated with the girl next to him.

“Her name is Niki. She’s the librarian’s apprentice.”

Everyone turned their heads to look at Technoblade. He had come to save his faltering brother, as he usually did. His bored eyes did not betray his true feelings, which were swimming in the embarrassment at what his brother was doing. Oftentimes, he felt ashamed of the negative feelings towards his brother, but right now he felt they were justified.

Queen Kristen, noticing the tense atmosphere, smiled brightly at the two strangers. “Oh! How nice. Have you come to enjoy the show with us?”

Niki and Ranboo each looked uncertainly at each other, and then at Wilbur. Before he could answer for them, Violet jumped out of her seat.

“Yes! Um, Wilbur brought this boy…”

“…Ranboo…” Techno murmured so softly that only that Violet could hear.

“…Ranboo! Um, yes, Wilbur brought Ranboo because I mentioned that Toby and he were very similar, and could be good friends, and um… Well, he brought Niki because…” Violet trailed off, looking over to the pink-haired prince for help but he gave her nothing but a shrug. “…because Techno and I invited her.”

The sitting prince looked up at Violet. “We did?”

Violet gave him a small jab to his ribs with her thumb.

“Yes, we did.”

Everyone was silent. Wilbur was looking at Violet like she had grown a third eye on her forehead, but he didn’t realize that she was doing this for his— _and Niki’s_ —benefit. No one could know about his little crush— it could ruin Niki’s life. To stop Wilbur from any further temptation, there were dozens of lords with eligible daughters that would try to send her packing.

Librarian girls didn’t belong with future kings.

King Phil cleared his throat. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. We always welcome our guests, but you two are especially welcomed.”

Violet let out a small, relieved sigh. The king bought her lie. That, or he was playing along with her.

_What was it that he said that one day in his office? ‘She plays the game well’?_

_Hmph. I wouldn’t have to play the godsdamned game if your son wasn’t a fucking idiot._

Before she sat back down, Violet met the nervous eyes of Niki. Extending a hand out, Violet very gently pulled the girl her age to her side. Seeing a familiar and kind face made both girls calm themselves.

Wilbur tried to protest as Lady Smith sat Niki next to Techno and herself, but he was shut up by the sharp stare of the said lady. He swallowed his pride and sat himself to the left of Violet, defeatedly gesturing for Ranboo to take the empty seat left of him. He tried to sneak a glance at Niki, but Violet flicked his temple before he could succeed.

The eldest prince was still rubbing the pain away from side of his head when Violet got close to his ear, whispering, “What is _wrong_ with you? If you had any respect for Niki, you would have left her alone. I can’t believe you. I am _so_ disappointed, Will.”

As his friend pulled away, Wilbur had a bewildered look on his face. He would have apologized- Violet almost looked _hurt_ \- but the apology would be a lie. The whole idea of bringing Niki there wasn’t in bad taste— he had wanted to show her who he was, what kind of life he could give her. Violet’s words had no effect on him, his decision to woo Niki was still in place.

After one glance, it was clear that Will’s half of the viewing box was being intently watched. Phil, Kristen, Prince Clay, Tommy, and King Alma were all looking between Niki and Techno with odd looks. Then, everyone’s attention soon drifted to Wilbur and Violet. Toby was the only one focused on Ranboo, curious about the boy whom Violet said he was similar to.

Violet, aware of the looks she was receiving, prayed that her brother and Ranboo’s budding friendship was the _only_ thing that came out of all of this. She knew what it looked like: she and Will looked like children, quarreling over a person they thought they knew what was best for. It was not hard to detect the jealousy that came from King Alma. Violet could safely assume that if he knew the _actual_ truth of she and Will’s relationship, he wouldn’t believe it. Because, truly, she hated him more than anything in that moment.

…

Walking back from the jousting tournament, the end-of-summer air had become cooler. Techno had finally put his vest and jacket back on. He was alone now, and he did not have to pretend to be something _greater_ when no one he knew was around. He had quickly thrown his long black jacket over a fastened green vest when he started his journey home.

Most of the ladies and lords had taken carriages back to the castle, but he preferred to walk. Being in cramped, tight, spaces wasn’t exactly his thing, and Tommy always made it worse than it had to be by constantly talking. And so, Technoblade took the road that led to the city; the one that all of the citizens of Viris traveled on. Some of the foreign people gave him odd looks, but most of Viris’s capitol citizens were used to having a prince walk among themselves.

On the streets that led to the castle, it was Technoblade. On the streets that led to the brothels, it was Wilbur. Either way, a prince was familiarizing himself with his citizens.

Violet had taken the first carriage back to the castle, dragging Niki and Ranboo along with herself and her brother. She had mentioned something to Techno about ‘having to fix this whole mess by herself’ but he did not know what she wanted from him. He agreed that his brother was an idiot, but it wasn’t like he could fix Wilbur.

His brother was who he was, and it was highly unlikely that Violet would be able to fix that. If Wilbur wanted Niki, he would have her. As terrible as it made his brother sound, it was the truth.

Before she had left, Violet had quietly explained to Niki that she had to lie in order to cover for Wilbur’s weird obsession with rebelling against his parents. Bringing guests without warning the King and Queen was a 'common occurrence.'

The fabricated story was (apparently) the best she could come up with. Techno thought it was stupidest lie he had ever heard. But Niki had bought it, surprisingly.

She said something like, “I’m sure it’s a lot of pressure to be a future king. He must find control in rebelling. It’s good that he has a friend like you, to cover for him.”

Techno scoffed to himself at the memory. If Niki was _that_ good at making excuses for shitty men, then perhaps Wilbur was onto something. The gods knew the eldest prince needed all the excuses he could get.

The air was still crackling with excitement from the tournament. People from all over Viris had come to see the festivities. Techno spotted a coven of female satyrs, dressed modestly in religious clothes and giggling like they were seeing the world for the first time. Ahead of him, a small family of four had traveled two villages over. He walked behind the family the entire journey to the city, and when he finally lost sight of them in the bustling night crowd, the sun had fully disappeared.

Guards that were stationed around the city were having their own fun, too. Familiar faces that Techno had trained with when he was young were flirting with young girls and eating free food from the closing vendors. He watched as they laughed with one another, the lights of open taverns making them glow happily.

The prince remembered the first time he had left the castle at night.

His brother had not come back from his nightly secrets and so Techno had gone after him. It hadn’t been hard to find him, but the journey from the castle to Elkin’s Tavern had been filled with entertaining people. He he had watched, feeling invincible, as he moved unnoticed in the shadows. That was one of the first times he hadn’t felt scrutinized. Since then, Technoblade often found himself walking around the capitol of Viris.

Another half-hour passed before the middle-prince managed to get close to the long stone bridge that would lead directly to the castle. Here, on the edge of the city and near the castle, large, beautiful townhouses lined the streets. It was quieter and mostly empty at night, but not any less beautiful. In fact, Technoblade was not against the idea of living there, someday; close enough to do his brother’s bidding, and far enough to pretend he hadn’t received a message about a family dinner.

But as he walked past lit windows with happy spouses and laughing children, it reminded Techno that this probably wasn’t the life meant for him. If anything, Wilbur was more suited for that specific future, over _him_. The middle prince wasn’t sure what his future was meant to look like, but… whatever these people had, wasn’t it.

The prince would have kept sulking around in his pity-party if it weren’t for the suspicious ally between two grand houses, accompanied by two suspicious men. Techno quickly stepped off the cobbled street, curiously pressing himself against the closest of the two houses. He felt for the knife at his waist, cautiously unsheathing it— just in case.

Then he waited. And listened.

“…That doesn’t explain why you’re _here_ , Johnathan. ‘Going for a midnight stroll,’ isn’t an excuse as to why you’ve come back to Viris. I won’t ask again, after this: What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

Techno let his face express some surprisal as he heard what sounded like Violet’s father, Lord Gerard Smith. It wasn’t a second later when he realized what was happening. Lord Smith said the name Johnathan, and according to his memory, that was the hired lawman’s name. Schlatt had mentioned to Violet that he and her father had once been good friends.

That is, until something terrible happened between the two.

That was all Techno could come up with before he heard the familiar voice of Schlatt.

“Gods, it’s nice to see you too, Gerard. I should thank you, ya'know. I’ve been too much of a coward to confront you, but damn— you’ve managed to corner me when I least expected it. I mean, following me out of the castle? Good…” Schlatt’s breath seemed to leave him as it sounded like a punch was thrown to his gut. “…job.”

“Godsdammit, John. Answer the fucking question—have you come to ruin me? As if what you've already done wasn’t enough? What do you want—money? I can give it to you just…”

“…Does it look like I need money, old friend?”

A pause between both men made Techno assume that Lord Smith was finally noticing what the satyr was wearing. Or perhaps it was obvious that Schlatt had been eating nicely, even if he was still tall and lean.

Lord Smith was suddenly stuttering, sounding like he wasn’t able to comprehend what he was seeing. “How-how on earth are you dre-dressed like this? Have you stolen…”

“…I haven’t stolen a godsdamn thing in my life, Gerard, you know that.”

There was laughter, suddenly. “Oh, you haven’t? Well, you could have fooled me.”

Gerard’s continued cackle lacked any sort of humor. Techno began to wonder if he would have to save someone’s life tonight. He couldn’t piece together what had happened between the two, but it didn’t sound like either of them had forgotten or forgiven each other for whatever had occurred.

Schlatt was struggling to escape his old-friend’s grasp. His grunts from straining himself accompanied his labored breathing. Techno leaned his head slightly, peering into the ally to watch what was happening. Lord Smith had Schlatt by the throat, squeezing the life out of him, even though the prince was fairly certain that the lawman was much stronger than his opponent.

“Why are you here, John?”

“To get… Violet out of the terrible… marriage you— you set her up with,” Schlatt choked out.

Techno couldn’t understand why the lawman wasn’t breaking away from Lord Smith's grasp, but he wouldn’t step in. Yet. He would let the conversation go on for as long both participants were breathing. Violet was mentioned, and now the prince was very interested in what Schlatt and Gerard had to say about his friend.

Lord Smith finally let go. Schlatt gulped down precious air as he rubbed his sore neck. The lawman was refusing to look at Gerard, but the lord was dead set on making any kind of eye contact to extract the truth from the satyr.

“ _Why?_ ” Gerard’s voice cracked. He pushed his hands through his dark hair, stressfully tugging at the short ends as he pleadingly looked at his old friend. “You know as good as I do what I promised Lila— well, believe it or not, this is me fulfilling her promise.”

_Lila_. That had been _her_ mother’s name.

The memory of Schlatt saying it played in the back of Techno’s mind. The way the man had said it so casually. The way his eyes softened when he gazed down at Violet as if he had actually known the woman who had mothered her. Maybe he had, knowing that both men in the ally had been actual friends once.

It was Schlatt’s turn to laugh humorlessly.

“Wow. I’m astonished, truly.” They were finally both looking at each other. All the pain that Schlatt had previously experienced was gone. He had a dead look in his eyes as he stared down Lord Smith. “It’s almost like you didn’t even know her. Can you honestly say that _King Alma_ is what she wanted for her _daughter_?”

“The King of Drachlyn is not as bad as he seems! People will just have to look past…”

“…You are blinded by your desperation, Gerard…”

“…But the prophecy—Lila—she said…”

“…The prophecy mentioned an ‘Outcast King,’ _not_ a tyrant who wears a fake crown.”

It was suddenly quiet. There was no backtalk from Lord Smith, only a helpless groan. He was rubbing his face in frustration, but for the first time since Techno had discovered them, it didn’t look like Gerard was angry at Schlatt. He just looked sad.

Half a minute slowly ticked by. The stars above the three men were sparkling brightly, the moon amongst them peaking at its highest point. The thought of a girl waiting for her prince at a windowsill almost made said prince leave the other two men to their own problems, but the girl’s father finally spoke:

“What do you suggest I should have done, then? What other ‘King of Outcasts’ can you think of?”

Schlatt shrugged, even though he had the answer to the questions already prepared. “The Badlands have four kings, and all four are outcasts.”

Scoffing, Lord Smith was quick in his rebuttal. “Three of those kings you speak of don’t even seek the company of women.” He had already weighed his options concerning the Badlands. “And while King Sam may be in need of a wife, I was not sure if I wanted my daughter to marry a man with questionable… history.”

The man opposite of Lord Smith laughed, for real this time. His head tilted back as he loudly wheezed. But, just as soon as it started, Schlatt had already sobered, deadpanning his next words:

“So, you chose the next questionable king you could find? You know Sam _comes_ from Drachlyn, right? _All_ the Badland kings come from King Alma, and most of their citizens, too. I mean—at least Sam _has_ a good reputation, despite how he was raised. Alma has nothing— _nothing_ — but rumors of deceit and cruelty.” 

Schlatt was breathing heavily, now. It appeared as though he had had enough, and Technoblade agreed with everything that came from his foaming mouth.

“The only redeemable piece of Alma is his son, who is rumored to have a better moral compass— Wait a minute,” Schlatt paused, his finger pointing directly into Gerard’s flinching face. “Why didn’t you try to pawn her off to the son?”

The Lord nearly burst into a scream as he exclaimed, “GODSDAMMIT, I DID.” He quickly lowered his voice, his expression embarrassed. He had broken his usual calm.

Gerard took a deep breath and tried again. “I did. But Alma was adamant about making sure his son had pure-bred heirs. He won’t allow anything less than a princess.”

“Yeah,” Schlatt laughed bitterly. “I’m sure that’s the only reason why he wanted Violet as his wife. A pretty girl like her must be the _last_ thing he wants in his bed, right?”

Technoblade had heard enough. He cringed at the sudden thought of Alma touching Violet in a way that made him sick, and he violently pushed himself off the wall he leaned on. He stepped to the side, trying to rid his mind of the terrible things his voices were rapidly telling him. _Kill, protect, blood, worthless, pathetic, kill, red, red, Violet, Violet, Violet…_ Techno clutched his head, trying to tell it to _stop thinking_.

This was what happened when he felt too much. He shouldn’t have let himself get this far. He should have left the moment they started talking about her.

But, like always, he couldn’t pull away.

He didn’t realize how much his actions would raise attention to him. Both men in the ally had turned to stare at the Prince of Viris; their previous conversation forgotten. When the young warrior finally saw that he had been found out, he had absolutely no idea how long they had been watching him. They probably thought he was insane—

All three men were silent, and Techno found that he was still holding his dagger tightly in his grasp. Both Schlatt and Gerard narrowed their eyes at the younger man as he sheathed the weapon awkwardly and slowly. If he was his normal self, Techno would have seen that Gerard was staring at him with a deep hatred, while Schlatt’s eyes held nothing but interest. But… he _wasn’t_ himself, and he gave his actions no explanation as he defeatedly dropped his head and walked away before they could ask anything of him.

Perhaps they already knew he wouldn’t spill their secrets, or maybe they thought he hadn’t heard anything important. Still, neither of the men came running after the prince. Clearly, they did not feel that Techno's word amounted to anything.

That night, he didn’t go to his windowsill. The voices were still too loud.

Instead, Technoblade crept into his brother’s room. He crawled underneath Wilbur's covers with everything but his shoes on. The middle prince clutched at his own chest as he curled next to his brother in the spot that was always made empty for him— just in case.

"What is wrong with me?" He whispered dead in the night, knowing no one was there to answer.

But there _was_ someone. In his brotherly nature, an awoken Wilbur kicked Techno in the shin before croaking, "Nothing, you stupid pig, now go to _sleep_."

The voices in his head quieted down. His guilty thoughts about leaving Violet alone for the night washed away. And, just like that, his brother was back in his good graces; all of the mistakes of the day, forgotten. It was incredibly annoying, but the middle prince was used to it by now. 

"Goodnight, Wilbur."

There was a pause, and it was assumed Wilbur had gone back to sleep. Until, that is, a dramatic sigh was heard. Another swift kick was dealt to Techno's shin.

"Goodnight, you fuckin' fool."

And all was made well.


End file.
